The Writer's Block One-Shots
by JLaLa
Summary: I've been having a bit of writer's block and these Everlark one-shots are just to help me out. Summaries provided at the beginning of each story.
1. The Soulmate Search

Okay, so I've been having a bit of writer's block for both North Star and The Family Plan and thought that this would help.

I'm building up a bunch of AU's so feel free to send me a message via Tumblr, FFn, or AO3 if you have a request. Thanks!

The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me—this stands for all forthcoming posts.

 _Summary_ : _The deal did sound pretty sweet. Katniss was pretty sure that she wouldn't be finding a soulmate on this so-called app._

 _And so, with a handshake, she allowed Prim to create her profile._

 _Requested by jbsaucy on Tumblr_

The Soulmate Search

Katniss knew the date was going to be a disaster from the get-go.

The first indicator was that she was set up by her mother, of all people. Then, he showed up with a man-bun…and flip-flops. Granted, man-buns weren't horrible on all men; Cato, her sister Prim's boyfriend, sported one about two years ago and it looked pretty nice with his thick blond locks.

On this guy, it just looked like he was too lazy to shower or even get a haircut. She tried not to grimace at how it resembled a gloop of tar atop his head during their dinner and resisted the urge not to mention the flip-flops.

It was a casual restaurant, after all.

Katniss had pretty much had it when he commented on her ordering a steak. He wasn't a vegetarian or anything, but he just thought it didn't seem very "lady-like" to order such a humongous slab of meat. Then, he suggested that she might have something like grilled salmon or a salad.

A motherfucking salad.

Just for that, she ate particularly slow and doused her meat in the au jus that she was given, before shoveling the meat in her mouth.

That was the end of that—Katniss paid her half and walked out on the guy. Her mother could bemoan the total possibility of her never getting married and never becoming a grandmother.

She was pretty sure her uterus closed up at the fella.

Taking a deep breath and unlocking the door, Katniss stepped into her apartment.

"Oh, it's 7:30…I guess the date didn't go well."

She found Prim sitting on their couch, flipping through channels on the flat-screen. She smiled sympathetically as Katniss took her shoes off and joined her younger sister.

"It went great. In fact, I'm having sex with him right now." Prim chuckled at her words and Katniss snorted, resting back. "Oh look! The condom broke and now I'm knocked up. Mom will be so happy!"

"What the hell did I just walk into?" They turned towards the front door where Peeta Mellark, their childhood playmate and now neighbor, stood. He headed over to them, tossing a stack of mail onto their coffee table. "By the way Prim, does Cato mind _those_ kinds of catalogs?" He snickered as Prim went scarlet. "Or is he just not cutting it?"

"First off, those are couples' items." Prim reached for the stack, pulling out the aforementioned catalogs. "They are to help enhance our relationship."

"Buttplugs enhance your relationship?" Peeta questioned.

"Don't knock it till you try it."

"That was a little more than I needed to know about my roommate," he replied before settling beside Katniss and putting an arm around her. "So what's this I hear about you getting knocked up?"

"My mom set me up," Katniss explained. "She thinks I'll never find my soulmate or some stupid shit like that." She gave him a wry smile. "I'm more focused on making my way up in the firm. Haymitch will never promote me if I'm not doing my due diligence. I need to be there forty-plus hours a week! I can't spend my time looking for some guy!"

"To be fair, you're not looking for some guy," Peeta started. "You're looking for _the_ guy."

"I don't have time to look for a soulmate," she argued.

"Well, there's an app for that," Prim informed her, presenting her iPhone to her sister. "It's called The Soulmate Search. It's becoming the next big thing. I know two couples who've gotten together through it."

Katniss looked over the screenshots of the app. It looked pretty standard; there was an information form for your profile and a quiz to help you narrow down what your wants and needs were. She scrolled down reading over the reviews…a majority of them positive.

"Nuh-uh…" She shook her head and gave Prim her phone back. "This is not real."

"I've read about this." They looked to Peeta. "The creator is Effie Trinket and she's had two successful apps with this one quickly becoming her third."

Katniss looked at him incredulously. "You can't really believe that I should do this…"

"Do you believe in soulmates?" he responded.

"Hell no."

"Then there's no harm in trying it out," her sister said. Prim jumped up and, going to Katniss' purse which was thrown on the floor by the door, she began rummaging through before raising Katniss' phone in the air. "If anything, you get a good laugh…and maybe a nice bang in a restaurant bathroom."

Katniss grimaced. "That's more than I needed to know about you and Cato."

"Here, here," Peeta added.

"Okay, here's the deal—if you find your soulmate, you'll have to switch rooms with me," Prim told her.

"More the reason to not find a soulmate. I can't sleep in that shoebox—"

"Shut it! And, if you don't find a soulmate, I will pay all of the rent for the next three months," her sister offered.

The deal did sound pretty sweet. Katniss was pretty sure that she wouldn't be finding a soulmate on this so-called app.

And so, with a handshake, she allowed Prim to create her profile.

"Do you have any nice pictures on this phone?" her sister asked, looking through her phone gallery. Prim frowned. "Why are there so many pictures of empty lots and buildings?"

"Because I'm an engineering architect," Katniss replied. "Those are some of my potential sites."

"We're off to a great start," Peeta said. "Don't worry. I have a cute picture of Katniss." He reached into the pocket of his jeans to take out his phone. "Let me send it to Katniss' phone."

There was a quick alert and Prim opened the picture file.

"Oh, that's a good one! Was this Fourth of July?"

"Yeah. Took it when we were all back home and watching the fireworks from your parents' backyard."

Katniss remembered the night well. It had a balmy night which was usual for July in Panem and their families were hanging out after the block party. They lived in a cul-de-sac, the Mellarks and the Everdeens across from one another since as long as Katniss and Peeta could remember.

She had already had a few cold beers when Peeta had taken the photo. The bright smile was her drunken excitement at the first explosion of fireworks above them.

"Your tits in this top are first class," Prim informed her with a wicked grin.

"Yup, definitely spank bank material," Peeta offered good-naturedly.

Katniss elbowed him in response. "Thanks for pretty much telling me that you masturbate to my photo."

"The pleasure is all mine." He pulled her close, his blue eyes suddenly serious. "You sure you want to do this?"

She shrugged. "I was never one to just come and get it, you know. Well, I do when it comes to work and just other things I really want. Soulmates were never much of a draw for me—might as well indulge Prim."

"Plus, there's that chance of not paying rent for three months," Peeta responded. He looked to her. "Don't forget to protect that heart of yours. It's tough, but it can still get hurt."

Katniss nodded, her chest suddenly fluttering as she stared into those earnest blues. "Of course."

"Likes…archery…old buildings…overwhelmingly long equations…" Prim was focused on the phone screen as she typed. "Dislikes…romantic movies…roses…"

"And man-buns," Katniss found herself adding.

Prim looked up. "Man-buns?"

"Tonight's date had one," Katniss informed her.

Peeta hissed at the information. "That's strike one."

"And, he wore flip-flops."

Prim shook her head as she typed. "What the hell was Mom thinking?"

"Also…he grimaced when I ordered a steak."

"Bastard!" Peeta replied with a laugh. "And, that was pretty much the end."

"Exactly," Katniss declared. "You know how much I love a good piece of meat in my mouth!"

"Damn straight," Prim added.

The sisters high-fived in agreement.

Peeta shook his head at the two, a bemused smile on his lips.

"Heaven help the man who has to deal with the Everdeen Girls."

* * *

 _Potential Soulmate #1: Gloss Huntington_

They were matched up based on their ambitious natures. Katniss was on the fast track in the architecture world while Gloss was on his way to taking over Wall Street. They knew that both their hectic schedules made it damn-near impossible to find potential partners, thus the reason for the profiles on The Soulmate Search.

After many scheduling negotiations—through their assistants—they found themselves in a swanky downtown restaurant for a late dinner.

Katniss had changed into a rather formfitting Dolce and Gabbana dress right after work and Johanna—her assistant—had to practically do her hair before she pushed her into the Uber waiting on the curb.

Gloss hadn't disappointed either, with his chestnut locks and expensive business suit. He smiled, revealing bright-white teeth, as she entered and, when he shook her hand, she could see his perfect manicure.

"Have you been here before?" she asked as they sat down.

"It's close to work," Gloss informed her. "So, tell me—do you want to get married? Do you want children? How many?"

And, she had barely placed her napkin on her lap. "Excuse me?"

"We're both busy people, obviously," he said. "And, we shouldn't beat around the bush. It's important to know each other's expectations right away so no one gets the bad end of the deal."

Katniss reached for the bread basket anxiously. "True…" She ripped a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. "I'd like to get married."

"And do you foresee that happening within the next year? Six months?"

"I've never thought that far ahead," she admitted and Gloss frowned at her words.

"You should," he informed her bluntly. "You're 29?" Katniss nodded, almost cringing at what might come next. "At thirty, your egg count will drop dramatically. I imagine that you'll want to be dating for at least one year before an engagement, and weddings take a year to plan…we would have to see a specialist prior to getting married if we wanted to conceive right away…"

Katniss felt her stomach turn.

This was supposed to be a potential soulmate?

Holy hell—was she this intense?

"Good evening." Katniss almost cried in relief seeing their server in front of them. "Would we like to start out with something to drink? Some wine, perhaps? We have a great Bordeaux—"

Gloss shook his head. "No." He looked to Katniss. "You probably should abstain from drinking to make things easier once you need to stop completely."

Shit! He took the one thing that would make her happy on this date—wine!

"Also, I'm going to get the porterhouse and she's going to have the calf's liver," Gloss informed the waiter before smiling at Katniss. "Liver is high in folate. It's great for your reproductive system." He reached over, taking her hand, and then winking at her. "You can thank me later."

* * *

"And, I will thank him _never_." Katniss took a swig of her beer before taking another bite of the hamburger that Peeta supplied her. "Would it be so bad for me to die barren and alone?"

Peeta patted her shoulder in understanding. "He was a real piece of work." Katniss downed her bottle of beer. "Want another one?"

"I can't seem to get the taste of liver out of my mouth," she explained. Leaning forward, Katniss breathed in his face. "Does it still smell?"

"First…kinda." Peeta handed her another bottle. "Second, did you seriously just breathe in my face?"

Katniss smirked. "Is it turning you on?"

"Yup." Peeta grinned at her. "Just another one of my weird turn-ons."

They sat on the balcony of his apartment, watching the city in front of them, the lights across flickering before their eyes. Katniss remembered that they had all moved together, Katniss finding an apartment building where they could all reside. She and Prim took the bottom half while Peeta took the top. Eventually, he found a roommate who Prim literally fell in love with—Cato.

"Finding love is hard," she admitted quietly. "Or maybe I'm just too hard to love."

Peeta shook his head vehemently. "You're not hard to love at all."

Katniss laid her head on his shoulder. "Are you just saying that so I won't eat any more of your food?"

"Yeah, you cleaned me out," he told her. Peeta pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Kidding. You can have whatever you like."

Raising her head, Katniss turned to him. "You know what I want?"

He raised a suspicious brow. "What?"

She stopped for a moment, gazing at her friend. When had he grown-up? He didn't look like the awkward boy from across the street. Peeta had matured on her, his broadness apparent in the well-fitted t-shirt he wore and the squareness of his jaw. She found herself gaping at the bit of stubble beginning to grow and swallowed down the sudden hunger in the pit of her stomach.

"I want…something fried," she finished. "Corndogs and fries—on me?"

Peeta stood up and held out his hand to her. "Always."

* * *

 _Potential Soulmate #2: Marvel McNaulty_

She and Marvel were compatible for one main reason; they were family-oriented. Katniss came from a loving home with parents who were still moony for one another and a sister who was one of her best friends. Marvel's parents were also still together, him being the middle child out of six children. His parents ran an Irish pub in Brooklyn.

He greeted her with a hug as they met up on a park bench just a few blocks from both their offices. He worked in human resources for a start-up and—thank God—was sporting a neat button up, horn-rimmed glasses, and tasteful leather loafers.

"So, why did you decide to get on this app?" she asked as they walked toward the theater. They were going to watch _Phantom of the Opera_ , a Broadway staple, which she woefully never had time to see after all these years.

"My mom has been on my case about finding a nice girl to settle down with," he replied. "And, one of my brothers—the douche he is—decided to sign me up."

"My sister signed me up," she told him with a laugh. "But she's not a douche. Probably needs one, though."

"So the fangs come out!" Marvel grinned at her. "You're a sassy one!"

"I love her, though." Katniss looked out as she spoke. "She's always been there for me; supported me."

"That's nice," her date said and she could hear the solemnness in his voice.

Marvel suddenly stopped, swiveling to meet her eyes. "I have to be real with you…I'm gay."

Well, this was a surprise. "So, why did you agree to go on this date?"

"My mom was there when my brother set the profile up, bless her soul. She just fell in love with your profile photo," he explained. "You looked totally gorgeous, by the way. I'd kill for the wave in your hair."

"Thanks," she replied awkwardly and they continued their walk. "So I guess we're both subjected to family pressure. My mom is always complaining that she'll never be a grandmother."

"Mine too!" The dam broke as they high-fived in solidarity. "That's why I did this for her—to show her that I'm at least trying so she'll get off my back."

"You know you can still have a family…with the right guy," Katniss said carefully. "I know we don't know each other, but it seems that you should just do yourself a favor and just…come out to them."

"I know." Marvel hung his head. "It's just…I don't want to be a disappointment."

"You won't be a disappointment if who you are makes you happy."

"Shouldn't you be taking your own advice?" Marvel replied with a gentle smile.

"Probably." Katniss turned to the marquee in front of them. "Should we just call it quits on this whole date?"

"Hell no!" Marvel put an arm around her. "Sweetie, you have never seen this musical or any musical as far as I can tell—" Katniss nodded in confirmation. "And, that is because you've never seen one with me! I'm about to show you the light!"

She laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well, okay!"

Katniss didn't fall in love with Marvel that night, but she did fall in love with Broadway.

* * *

"And then the chandelier started to just fall…" Katniss laughed in remembrance. "We both let out a little scream."

"Marvel seems pretty cool," Peeta said as they sat on her couch, her feet plopped on his lap.

She had a presentation at the office and had to borrow Prim's Louboutins, but Katniss was paying for the fact that they were a half-size smaller than what she usually wore.

"Yeah, we're going shopping one of these days," she told him. "I'm thinking of setting him up with one of the guys from my office…his name is Thresh—and he looks like Michael B. Jordan. Just broke it off with his partner a few months ago."

"That's really cool," her friend told her. "So, Marvel could be a soulmate just not the kind you need."

"Aren't you supposed to just have one soulmate?" she pointed out.

"I don't think that there's a finite number," Peeta explained. "You can have a soulmate for whatever thing your soul might be in need of—sisterhood…friendship…love…" He smiled at her. "I feel that with all the different facets of a human being, one single person can't make you whole. You need others to fill those empty spaces of your soul."

"Damn you're smart," Katniss breathed. "Why haven't you found someone to fill your hole?"

Peeta shrugged. "Maybe you should introduce me to Marvel—didn't you say he was working for some women's fashion start-up? There must be some hotties—"

Katniss silenced him quickly with a punch to the arm.

* * *

 _Potential Soulmate #3: Finnick Odair_

To be honest, Katniss was not sure how she got matched to Finnick.

He was an athletic swimmer, she hated water. He came from a prominent Manhattan family, she came from a small-town in the Mid-West. He had never worked a day in his life, she worked from the bottom rung to the position she held now.

"Finnick," she started as they sat in a bar for a quick drink date. "It isn't like you aren't attractive—" Finnick was very handsome with copper hair, bright green eyes, and a roguishly charming smile. She would kill for his thick lashes. "But we don't seem very compatible, to be honest."

Finnick gave her a soft smile. "I picked you. Effie is my Aunt and I helped in developing the algorithm for the matches."

"Why me?" she asked in surprise.

"Because…" Finnick took a long swig from his cup. "You kind of look like her."

"Ah." The realization came quickly. "You've had your heartbroken."

"Yes…" She could see the thin film of tears in his gaze. "Her name is Annie…Annie Cresta."

Katniss looked to him curiously. "Why exactly did you break up?"

"My family doesn't think she's good enough for me," he explained. "She hasn't gone to college. She works for her family laundromat in the day and then at their restaurant in the evenings. I met her there. She remembered my favorite sandwich every time I came…it would never work."

"Who says?" she replied. "My Dad came from the projects and my Mom came from a prominent Southern family."

"Like in _The Notebook_?" Finnick asked, watery-eyed.

"I would say more _West Side Story_." Marvel had come over last weekend and they, along with Prim and Peeta, watched the movie. Both Prim and Marvel had utter hard-ons for Tony while she could see Peeta admired the olive-skinned Maria. "Anyway, my Dad had nothing really to offer, except for his exceptionally beautiful voice—and my Mom just couldn't help but fall for him. They're not rich by any means, but they're happy, and created a great life for me and my sister."

"So, do you think that I should sing to her?"

Katniss shrugged. "Can you sing?"

"I don't know…never tried." He looked to her. "Can you?"

"I've been told that I can hold a tune…" she replied carefully.

Finnick suddenly slapped a wad of bills on the bar and grabbed her hand, leading her quickly out of the bar.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

* * *

"As we stroll along together…holding hands walking all along…"

Why in the world was she doing this? It was almost midnight and she was in Queens, singing on some porch steps like she was in a damn doo-wop group.

On the street, Finnick was throwing small stones at the window to her right.

"Can't you just call her?" Katniss suddenly asked.

"Come on, Katniss! It's more romantic this way," Finnick informed her. He continued throwing the stones. "She should be home. Keep singing!"

"Fine…" She took a deep breath. "So in love are we two…that we don't know what to do—"

"Excuse me?" Katniss turned to find a young woman wearing a waitress uniform under her down jacket standing next to her. "What's going on?"

Quickly, Katniss looked at her nametag: Annie.

Of course that would happen.

"Seriously, I've been singing here for almost thirty minutes!" She cupped her hands towards her 'date'. "Yo Finnick! Look who's here!"

Finnick looked to her, eyes widening seeing Annie standing next to her.

He rushed over, taking Annie's hands. "I needed to talk to you," he explained quietly. "I'm just so sorry…I left you when you needed me the most." Finnick stared into Annie's eyes. "When the truth is that I need you more than you'll ever know."

Annie started, her almond eyes beginning to water. "You do?"

"I do," Finnick replied. "I know that you think that I can't make it without my family or their money—but I can." He turned to Katniss and gave her a smile. "I have a friend who has human proof that people from opposite sides can make it."

"And, what are we supposed to do?" Annie asked worriedly. "How will we survive? Eventually, you'll resent me for bringing you down and I can't have that. I couldn't have you do that to our children, either."

"You could never bring me down," Finnick assured. "You bring me up. You've shown me that I'm better and smarter than anyone expects of me. I know we won't have much, but we'll have each other. That's enough. That's all anyone needs in the end…to be with the one person who makes them feel like they're home…who they can rest their head on…who they can laugh with…who makes them feel like that they are the most loved person in the world. You are that person to me."

Later, when she told this story during Finnick and Annie's wedding reception—his parents had easily forgiven him and paid for the lavish wedding—Katniss never mentioned the stream of tears on her face as Finnick got down on one knee.

Or, the fact that she burst into tears when Annie sobbed her acceptance and Katniss watched the two embrace in the middle of the empty street.

* * *

"Late night?" Peeta widened the door of his apartment for her. She flopped down on his couch, tossing her heels on the floor. "Seems like the date didn't go so well."

"It did," she replied as he joined her. "For him."

Peeta reached for a blanket, draping it over both their legs. "What do you mean?"

"My date just got engaged to his soulmate as I serenaded an empty apartment in Queens." Katniss laughed, undoing her hair as she recalled the beautiful memory of Finnick and Annie's reunion. "He was obviously heartbroken when we met—said I reminded him of her." She mused over an image of the beautiful Annie Cresta with her round eyes and dark waterfall of thick hair. "I don't know what he was talking about. Annie was gorgeous."

"Don't even, Katniss. You are beautiful." Peeta lifted her chin and she felt herself tremble under his warm touch. "You've always been beautiful to me."

"Even when I had braces?" she teased.

Peeta nodded, a grin on his full lips. "Yes, even with braces…and the teased bangs."

"It was the 90s! You sported neon—and threw a fit whenever we play 'Double Dare'!" Katniss chuckled in remembrance. "We've had some real adventures, haven't we?"

"Yes, and they were never scary because we were in them…together."

" _That's all anyone needs in the end…to be with the one person who makes them feel like they're home…"_

Finnick's impassioned words suddenly floated into her head.

Why had she come here instead to her apartment?

The answer was simple—because she felt safe with Peeta…she felt like she was home.

"… _who they can rest their head on…"_

Katniss thought about the numerous times that she had tiredly returned home from work and Peeta had offered his shoulder for her to rest on as she winded down from the day.

"… _who they can laugh with…"_

Peeta's hearty laugh tickled her memory and her mind went to the many times, even recently, that he seemed to be the only one who can bring a chuckle to her lips.

"… _who makes them feel like that they are the most loved person in the world…"_

This man in front of her had always protected and cared for her. He never asked for anything, but still always made it a point to let her know that she was loved and easy to love.

Peeta was her person.

And, suddenly it was all so clear.

"You okay there?" Peeta waved a hand in her face. "You kind of spaced out on me."

"Peeta," Katniss began. "You know how you said that soulmates fill the spaces of you that are empty?" She turned to him, eyes focusing in the dim moonlight of his living room. "How many spaces of you do I fill?"

Even in the dark, she could see his cheeks darken as she scooted closer to him.

"The truth?" Peeta looked into her eyes and she was surprised at the intensity in his own. "You fill all of them."

"So, you don't believe in more than one soulmate?" Katniss questioned.

"I think we do have more than one, but there's always one that can fill this space." His hand went to his chest. "This part is saved for one special person." Her hand covered his and he took in a sharp breath. "Katniss…"

"You're my person," she finished his words for him. Katniss didn't know how, but she found herself straddling his lap, her chest pressed against his, feeling that comforting beating of their hearts together. "How long have you known?"

"Since we met?" His hand went to cup her cheek. "Since Fourth of July? I guess I've always known that, without you, I wasn't whole."

Her mouth was on Peeta's before he could even continue. His arms wove around her waist, pulling her closer as they deepened their kiss.

She thought that she knew everything about him.

What she didn't know, until now, was that he was this good of a kisser.

Pulling away, Katniss jumped off his lap—to his dismay—and pulled him up. He was tousled and sexy, his lips swollen from their heated kisses and her chest bloomed knowing that it was because of her.

"Come on," she urged.

"Where?"

"Your room," she told him as they headed toward the hallway leading to his bedroom. "We can discuss filling holes and such…"

Peeta chuckled. "As long as we don't fill any of those holes with butt plugs."

Katniss shook her head, reaching over to kiss him. "We can save those for the wedding."

"In that case…" Peeta suddenly scooped her up and she yelped in surprised delight. "…let's get on with that discussion."

Her laughter echoed down the hallway, fading with the slam of Peeta's bedroom door, and suddenly silenced as their lips met once more.

* * *

"I wonder how Katniss' last date went," Prim said as she and Cato entered her apartment, the following morning, after spending the night at Cato's family home. She was surprised to find the place quiet and untouched. "Katniss, you home?" Prim quickly checked her sister's room, finding it empty. "I guess she's out."

"I guess the date must have gone really well," Cato told her with a smile. He put an arm around his girlfriend. "Aren't you glad that she found someone?"

"Hmm…something is definitely not right." Prim did another once-over on the room, before her eyes settled on a folded paper on their coffee table. In two hops, she was picking up the note and scanning it quickly, a wide smile growing on her pink lips.

It was a simple message, since there were only two words, followed by Katniss's signature: _You win._

Prim's triumph was quickly wiped out as she heard a moan coming from the apartment above.

The voice sounded quitefamiliar…

Katniss' voice was always a little deeper in the morning.

"Finally," she muttered to herself.

Prim folded the letter back before joining her boyfriend.

It seemed that it was time to tell Cato that they would be moving in together.

 **FIN.**

Music: "So in Love" All-4-One

Prompts are always welcome via Tumblr, FFn, or AO3.

Thanks for reading!

-LaLa


	2. Nourished

Thank you so much for all your great reviews, follows, and favorite on my first one-shot!

This next one-shot prompt comes from alliswell21 and is in a non-Hunger Games universe.

Hope y'all enjoy and, as always, please feel free to send prompts via Tumblr, FFn, and AO3. You never know—yours could be chosen.

 _Summary: Archery was supposed to be a way to keep Prim occupied. However, breaking that window of the Mellark Bakery wasn't exactly what Katniss planned. In-Panem universe._

Nourished

Mom is gone.

I guess it's for the best; she's a talented healer and her skills are needed elsewhere. It would be wasted here in District 12, especially since Prim has taken over as the town's healer. Mom taught her everything she knew as my younger sister has a gentler nature.

So, when the Capitol sent Mom a message requesting that she go to District 4 to train others in healing, she jumped at the chance. She has lived her whole life here. She's raised Prim and I alone since Dad was taken from us in a mining collapse. Plus, Prim and I are well past the age of having to be watched with me being twenty-one and my sister just turning seventeen.

We supported Mom, giving her tight hugs before she stepped onto the train. She promised she would write as soon as she was settled.

"Take care of Prim," Mom said as we pulled away from her embrace.

"She will probably take much better care of me than I would of her!" I replied.

Now, we stand watching the train get smaller as it begins to leave our little grey town.

"What now?" Prim asks as soon as the train is out of our sight.

"Do you have any visitors today?"

We walk down the train station platform and head into town. The townspeople, both from the Merchant and Seam sides, greet us. Mom is well-respected since she came from a Merchant family but also found her place in the Seam when she married our father.

"Unless there's an emergency, I'm not expecting anyone," Prim replies. "Are you hunting today?"

I shake my head. "It's too late in the day," I explain. "And, it's not really the same."

My sister looks at me in concern. "So, you still haven't spoken to him?" I shake my head. "Are you really going to let this ruin your friendship?"

"Oh, you mean his marriage?" I turn to my sister; her bluebell eyes look at me in sympathy, which is exactly what I don't need or deserve. "I don't think I exactly fit in with Gale's new life."

The marriage of Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee happened a month ago. I was invited, of course, as we are close to the Hawthornes, but I couldn't exactly get myself to look my wedding best. Prim, however, says they looked very happy and Mom added that my best friend had asked about me.

I'm not ready to explain—or I can't really explain—why I couldn't get myself to go. We have been friends since we were children and became hunting partners as we got older. Gale taught me everything I know about hunting.

"Oh, look!" Prim is suddenly sprinting to the window of the Mellark Bakery. I smile at her exuberance, still finding it hard to believe that my sister is almost an adult—especially since she's drooling over the display cake, her hands pressed to the window. "That cake looks beautiful!"

The cake is three tiers with white icing. However, on one side, a shining chocolate glaze cascades down the tiers, making it look like a luxurious waterfall. There's such precision to it that I can't help but admire the artistry.

"Took me hours to make."

The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly rise as warm breath caresses my skin. I quickly turn to find Peeta Mellark, the owner of the bakery we're currently loitering at, behind me.

He rears back at my sudden movement but recovers before giving me an easy smile. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's my fault," I reply quickly and nod my head at Prim. "I was trying to keep my sister from salivating all over your window."

"Well, I'm glad someone enjoys my work," he replies. "If only those who enjoyed my creations could also buy them." I can see the weariness in his deep-blue eyes and the slouch in his step. Peeta, however, takes a deep breath and gives me a smile. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"May I buy some bread from you?" I reach into my pocket for the few coins I have and present it to him awkwardly. "Whatever this will get. Our Mom just left for District 4 and I think Prim and I will need some cheering up."

"Of course. Give me a second." Peeta disappears into the bakery and I wipe my hands awkwardly on my pants. They've gone all sweaty, for some reason. He walks back out with a bag in his hand and holds it out to me. "Hope this cheers you up."

"Thanks." My mouth just barely raises up. I quickly look to my sister who is suddenly staring at us. "See you around."

I step off the porch and Prim quickly follows. "What was that?" She looks to me, her mouth barely containing the teasing smile I know she wants to give.

"It's called a purchase," I reply. "It's an action where money is exchanged for an item or service—"

"Okay, smartass—"

"Primrose! Where the hell did you learn that?"

"From the beautiful, brooding woman in front of me," she supplies with a wide grin.

I put my free arm around her. "Are you going to give me trouble?"

"Always."

We burst out in laughter as we make our way back home.

Later that night, as we cut into the bread that I bought, I am surprised to see it filled with nuts and cranberries. This is of much better quality than I paid for and I tell my sister as we take our first bites, humming in approval as the taste of toasted walnuts explodes in our mouths.

"I wonder why Peeta Mellark would do that," Prim teases. She stops at the tight line of my mouth. "I think I'm going to go check on Lady."

Quickly, my sister steps out of the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I rip another piece of the bread to stuff it in my mouth, closing my eyes to savor the taste.

A pair of blue eyes and a crooked smile suddenly float into my mind.

Suddenly, I'm standing up to place the rest of the bread in the cupboard.

* * *

"Okay, so bring the arrow up…" I adjust Prim's posture. "Pull back…" She follows my instruction. "…keep your eye on the target and then release."

The arrow slices through the air, hitting a nearby tree and Prim turns to me. "How did I do?"

"Was that where you meant to aim?" I ask.

"Uh…kind of."

A week has passed since Mom left. We received her letter recently and it looks like she's settling in well. However, it's been slow here in District 12. Thanks to my mother and Prim, no one seems to be ailing, so my sister has had no visitors. Hunting goes as well as it can but is admittedly lonelier without Gale, who is currently moving into the Mayor's house…with his wife.

Somehow, Prim convinced me that teaching her to shoot was a good idea. My hunts are early enough in the morning for her to join me, and I think she can tell that hunting has not been the same.

"Can I please try one on my own?" Prim begs.

I look around; we're in an isolated area, but close to town. However, I doubt that anyone will come across us.

"Okay, just remember what I told you," I warn as she reaches for another arrow excitedly.

"I know…I know…" Prim sets the arrow easily. "Then, I just pull back—"

"Prim! Katniss!"

It happens so quickly; Gale's younger brother Rory is waving at us and Prim releases the arrow high into the air. The noon sun blocks our views and it disappears in the blinding light.

"Oh no…" Prim's eyes are wide pools of shocked blue. "What did I just do?"

"Sorry," Rory says sheepishly, his hand over his eyes as he also tries to see where the arrow has sailed.

"Let's split up," I tell my sister and Rory. "I'll head towards town and you two head towards the Seam."

In agreement, we all rush away to our designated areas. I keep my eyes peeled as I head into town for an arrow sticking out of any tree, plant, or…person.

"Damn." My eyes find his blues before anything else. "Do you want to explain this?"

Peeta Mellark moves aside to present the broken window behind him and I realize that we are in the back of the bakery.

I used to come here to trade squirrel meat for bread with Mr. Mellark before he pass—

"I'm sorry." I rush over to Peeta. "I was teaching Prim how to shoot and Rory Hawthorne interrupted us…"

He holds his hand up sternly. "That's all I needed to know. Wanted to make sure it wasn't intentional."

"Why would it be?" I ask.

Peeta turns to me. "Were you worried?"

I'm shake my head furiously. "What—no!" Peeta raises a brow. "Well, I was worried that someone might've gotten hurt."

"Come inside," he tells me.

We walk up the porch steps and he holds the door open for me. Carefully, I walk inside and discover that the arrow has landed on one of the prep tables; there's a broken bowl and flour covering a majority of the floor.

"Oh shit." The words tumble out without thought and behind me Peeta snorts. "I will replace the window."

"We won't be able to have it repaired by tonight," he informs me. "I can place some tarp over it, but this whole batch—" Peeta waves his hand over the trays on the table and at the tray cart nearby. "—will be ruined."

I walk over to him; he looks so worried that I find my hand reaching to his shoulder. "How?"

"They won't rise due to the temperature change," he explains as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "My mother was right. I could never take his place."

After Mr. Mellark died, Mrs. Mellark joined her firstborn and his wife to District 8, never even taking a second look at the business her husband had worked so hard to establish. Peeta's other brother, Rye, has been working as an apprentice for the last year in District 2.

So, the responsibility had all fallen on Peeta.

"Don't say that," I find myself telling him. "I'll cover the window and you go to the hardware store to put in an order for the glass you need. Tell them to send the bill to me." He opens his mouth to protest. "Don't fight me on this. You'll lose."

Peeta shuts his mouth before giving me a small smile. "I don't doubt that."

We stare at one another for a moment. He's grown up. There's a bit of stubble on his chin and he's inches taller than when we were in school. Also, due to the shirt he's wearing, I can see how much he's filled out. No longer scrawny, years of lifting flour bags had made Peeta broad but muscular.

"I'm going to clean up the glass," I blurt out and then look around. "Broom?"

"Closet." He points behind me. "I'll be back."

The moment is broken and we get to our tasks as I try not to ruminate how much Peeta Mellark has changed.

* * *

When Peeta gets back, the floor has been cleared of glass and flour and I'm finishing up on closing up the break in the window with some tarp that I found.

"It's not much," I say as he walks into the room. "But it will work until it gets replaced."

"One week," he informs me morosely. "They won't have it until then…and I will be in the hole."

"I'm so sorry." I walk over to him. "The shooting lessons were supposed to occupy Prim during her slow days—and because she wanted to keep me company during the hunts."

"I suppose it was because of Gal—" He stops at my glare. "Never mind. The point is that I have nowhere to prep."

"How about upstairs?" I find myself suggesting.

"Upstairs?" Peeta muses for a moment. "There is a lot more room since it's just me." He looks at the trays. "These won't proof now and this was my whole inventory for the next two weeks."

"What if I help you?"

I regret the words immediately. One, because as much as I want to help, there are other things that I need to be doing for my own household. Two, I have no idea how to bake.

However, seeing Peeta's hopeful face quells all of these thoughts. "Really? You'll help?"

I nod after a moment. "What time will you need me tomorrow?"

* * *

"That's nice of you," Prim says later that night as we finish dinner. "I'll go apologize to him tomorrow and I'll bring some cheese from Lady."

"It's no big deal," I assure her. "Your shooting days, however, are over."

"Spoilsport," my sister teases. "You should thank me. There are Merchant and Seam girls who would do anything to be in your place."

"I'm not one of them," I respond.

Prim rolls her eyes at me. "Oh come on, Katniss. You're telling me that you haven't noticed Peeta Mellark at all?" I cross my arms. "Even a teeny bit?"

"His eyes are nice." I gather our plates to put them into the shallow sink behind me. "But his shirts are too tight."

"I think you've noticed more than you let on."

"I think I've noticed that you're not wiping the table," I retort.

Prim chuckles at me, the rag in her hand wiping the area in front of her before she stops once more.

"It's okay to be friends with Peeta," she suddenly says, the lightness in her voice gone. "It might help you…move on."

"I don't need to move on." I turn around and give her the sternest look I can muster; it's hard to be cross at Prim. Despite her sometimes outspoken nature, she always has the best intentions. "I just need to get this whole week over with."

"If I'm being honest—" Prim gives me a smile. "—I think you'll feel differently by the end of the week."

* * *

I arrive at the back entrance of the bakery before the sun even rises.

As Peeta leads me into the kitchen, I notice the slight chill. "I think I understand why you can't prep in here."

"Temperature is very key when it comes to baking," he tells me. "I have the ovens already going so we can just put in everything we make right away."

We head upstairs; the entrance to the Mellark home is through a set of stairs in the kitchen. Peeta lets me walk in first and I'm surprised to see how he's managed to create a whole prep station in his living room. The family couch is pushed against an empty wall and, in its place, four long tables connected to create a square. There are two tray carts next to the door which Peeta explains will make it easier to rush down the stairs to place the trays into the ovens.

There are shelves full of supplies and utensils next to the small kitchen. Peeta shows me the electric mixers that have been moved into the kitchen before going to the space where the proofing happens.

"Proofing?" I look to him in confusion. "You mentioned that before."

"It's the final rising period before baking," he explains. "We have these machines here that are like chambers for the dough. It creates enough warmth and humidity to help with the rise. I have bakery-grade versions downstairs but, with the window broken, I worry that it will affect the process."

"Oh." My head is already beginning to hurt. "How did you get all of this done in one night?"

"It wasn't too hard," he says. "I got Mr. Stewart from the hardware store to help with the big stuff after he took the measurements for the window. I gave him a basketful of bread, so I'm sure he'll be happy to help after the window is fixed."

"So, what did you want me to do?" I ask him carefully.

I'm really hoping it's something that doesn't use the proofing machine.

"I'm going to teach you how to bake sugar cookies and make royal frosting," he tells me with a bright smile. Peeta leads me to the tables. "I've got all of the supplies ready; flour…eggs…butter…baking powder…salt…sugar…vanilla extract…" He points everything out, including the measuring cups and spoons as well as a rolling pin. "Then, you just put the completed batch onto the cart and I'll take it down to the ovens."

"So, I'm going to need you to repeat everything because it's like you're speaking a completely different language," I reply.

"Sorry." Peeta gives me a sheepish smile. "I forget that not everyone was born and raised in a bakery. So, let's just start with the first step. We're going to sift the flour, baking powder, and salt first."

"Sift?" I'm close enough to the door that I can just turn and run.

He puts an arm around my shoulders and walks me over to a table full of supplies.

"Let me introduce me to your new best friend." Peeta reaches for a stainless-steel cup with a handle before turning it so he can show me the bottom. The bottom of it is a strainer and he presents it to me somewhat proudly. "Sifter meet the lovely Katniss Everdeen. Katniss meet sifter—"

I elbow him and he guffaws. "No need to be a smartass!"

He gives a smile and I'm almost disarmed by it. "I've been called worse."

"Well, maybe you can tell me what other names you've been graced with—" I tap the bottom of the sifter. "—while you explain how this even works."

"Anything for you, Katniss," he replies warmly.

I turn away before I have to make up a reason for my flushed cheeks.

* * *

Once I get the hang of cookie-making, it is not at all as complicated as it seemed. Peeta showed me how he used the sifter which is just a contraception that mixes all the dry ingredients. Then, he instructed me on how to use the mixer, on medium speed, to combine the butter and sugar.

He is amazingly patient, showing me what to look for as the mixer runs. The butter and sugar must look fluffy. Then, once that happens, I add the eggs and vanilla before reducing the speed of the mixer. After I pour the dry mixture in, we watch as it all combines to create the cookie dough.

"Now, we have to divide the dough and roll it into the discs with—" He presents the rolling pin to me. "—this." I'll take one half and you'll take the other." Together, we roll our doughs into discs as Peeta gives me tips on how to not tire myself out doing this. "Now, we'll wrap these and put them into the fridge." I follow him into the kitchen where the industrial-sized metallic box stands and he opens it, placing it on one of the empty shelves. "So you think you can do about a million more?"

I chuckle. "I'll do a billion."

Peeta pats my shoulder. "I have no doubt."

Together, we work in silence; him on his bread loaves and me on edible cookie dough. Once in a while, I hear him talking to himself, especially while he's by the proofing machine ("Not enough yeast…" or "Shape is not quite right…). I try not to bug him by asking too many questions, but I don't need to because he seems to know when to correct me.

"Too much salt," he tells me as I begin my fifth batch. "Just toss it and start again."

"How do you know?" I ask in surprise as I take my bowl of dry ingredients and dispose of it in a nearby garbage.

"Just because I'm busy doesn't mean I don't have eyes on you," he says. "You used the wrong measuring spoon. A good baker always knows what's going on around him."

"Sounds like the skill of a good hunter," I reply. "Maybe you should try hunting with me."

Peeta smiles and shakes his head. "I'm a heavy stepper. I think I'd scare off all your prey."

"Too bad." I muse over the thought of us in the woods; both of us as silent as we are while baking together. He would be a good lookout while I do the hunting. "I would be interested to see how you would be as a hunter."

"Don't you usually hunt with Gale Hawthorne?"

"I _did_ ," I correct him. "And no, I don't want to talk about it."

Peeta raises his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask."

"Good."

We go back to our duties in silence.

* * *

"This is the fun part," Peeta explains. He presents the stainless steel outlines of different shapes, some are even shapes of animals. "These are cookie cutters. Now that your dough has cooled and you've put flour over your area, you can cut out the shapes."

He shows me how to press into the dough, showing how firm it should be as I push in—just enough to make the shape, but not harshly enough to make it difficult to remove. Then, together we put his cookie (a star) onto the cookie sheet.

This is the better part of the whole process and soon I find myself with three trays of prepped sugar cookies. Peeta takes them downstairs into the oven as I start on another batch. I realize that, in the few hours that I've been making sugar cookies, he's made bread loaves, rolls, scones, and croissants.

I'm feeling very inadequate.

* * *

The bakery has opened, but thankfully help has come in the form of a Merchant boy named Robbie. He's sixteen with a friendly smile and a smattering of freckles on his pale face. Peeta introduces me and immediately Robbie's face goes pink as I say hello, before he dashes away to the front counter.

"What was that?" I ask while Peeta laughs.

I'm begrudgingly starting to enjoy that laugh, especially when I start to decipher what each one means. Some are because of genuine humor, some are to relieve frustration (because of me), and others are because of some sort of endearing action (also done by me).

This particular one is a laugh of endearment.

"Boys tend to get a little tongue-tied in front of a pretty girl," Peeta informs me, his arm going around my shoulders good-naturedly. It doesn't bother me that he does this. It somehow makes me feel protected, even a little cared for.

"But you don't get tongue-tied around me," I respond. "What does that mean?"

Peeta stops as we reach the foot of the stairs and turns to me; there's something behind that deep gaze of his.

Suddenly, the room seems a little warmer.

His finger goes to my jawline as he traces it delicately before stopping at my chin, lifting it so I meet his full-blue eyes.

"It just means I'm better at hiding the fact that I think you're beautiful."

* * *

"Royal icing is a simple mixture of confectioners' sugar, which has a much more powdery texture than regular sugar, meringue powder which gives it lightness, and some water for mixing." Peeta is placing this all in the mixer as he instructs me. "You just have to beat it all together until it's smooth. The icing should be the consistency of glue."

I watch in amazement as he makes adjustments, adding water or sugar as needed.

"Now that we've got the consistency down, we fill the piping bags that we've prepped," he explains as he used a mixing spoon to scoop the icing into the clear plastic bag. "I want this white to fill a majority of the cookie so I'll use a piping tip that's a little wider."

I create the next batch and, after several attempts, I get the right consistency. Peeta adds a little food coloring which makes my icing a pale yellow. I fill the piping bag with a smaller piping tip shakily before presenting it to my 'boss'.

"Not bad," he says. "Now, let's see your icing skills."

We go back to the table where a tray of cooled cookies sits. Taking one that's a simple circle, he shows me how to control the icing bag so I cover the cookie completely with icing.

"I can do this," I assure him and reach for a cookie shaped like a diamond.

Except, I can't.

My hand is shaking and I grip the bag a little too hard which causes an explosion of white icing to drench the cookie.

"Take a breath," Peeta tells me softly. I take a deep breath and as I exhale, his hands cover my own to help guide me from behind. "Just be gentle." He takes another cookie, shaped like a flower, before placing his hands back on mine. "Loosen your grip…" I release a bit of my hold on the bag. "And go slow."

I let out a laugh. "Easier said than done."

"What does your name mean?" he asks suddenly.

"Katniss is a plant," I explain. "The petals are edible. It's best known to foragers because the roots have a very similar taste to a sweet potato. So, if ever I'm in a situation where I need to survive, I just find myself."

I can feel his smile against my skin. "A true survivalist." We continue slowly as I get a little more in control of the icing. "And Prim's name?"

"Primrose is mostly medicinal, which is appropriate since she's a healer of sorts."

"There you go." Peeta steps back and we admire the pure white of the flower-shaped cookie. He grabs the piping bag with the yellow icing and fills the middle of it with yellow, then beams at me proudly. "Congratulations. This is your first completed sugar cookie with royal icing."

* * *

As I am getting ready for my fourth morning at the bakery, I recite recipes in my head. The first day, I had created a sizable sugar cookie batch that would last a few days. Peeta even gifted Prim and me with a bag of my cookies as a thank you.

A new thrill rushed through me as I bit into that cookie. I created it—and it wasn't horrible.

In fact, it was delicious.

Yesterday's lesson was scones. They had very similar ingredients to cookies, except for the light and heavy creams. Butter has to be cut in with knives into the dry mixture as the dough has to have a coarser texture before adding cream.

I learned to fold in dough until my arms ached but came up with a successful batch of scones on my second attempt.

My insides jumped watching Peeta take that first bite with a side of jam.

He closes his eyes whenever he eats my creations, savoring the taste and, hopefully, enjoying it.

"Soon you won't need me to instruct you," he told me after finishing off the scone, a note of regret in his tone.

"Of course I'll need you," I assure him. "There are many recipes that I will likely burn…and I'll need you to save me."

"I find it hard to believe you'll ever need saving, Katniss."

Those words float into my mind as I kiss Prim goodbye while she is still in bed, then step out of my house.

I'm startled suddenly, seeing who is standing in front of me—Gale.

We have avoided one another for the last few months and suddenly he's in my front yard.

"What are you doing here?" I blurt out.

"I thought you'd be heading out for your hunt," he replies as if I should know. "Thought I would join you."

"I'm not hunting for the next week." I head past him quickly. "So, you can go."

"That's not fair, Katniss!" I stop in my tracks. "It was your doing. _You_ made this happen."

"Go home Gale." I turn to meet his eyes, so similar to my own in both color and harsh anger. "Go home to your wife!"

I don't look back, though I know he's standing there, watching me rush away from a situation neither of us have control over.

* * *

I let myself into the back door of the bakery. Peeta knows to expect me around this time. However, I'm sure he didn't expect me to arrive with a slam of the door. He quickly rushes down the stairs, stopping halfway to peer at me as I hang my olive jacket next to the door.

"You okay?"

I nod. "Yes. Just ready to work." My voice tightens at the end of my words and Peeta senses my tense mood immediately, letting me walk pass him on the staircase. Following me up, he closes the door. "So, what are we working on?"

"Croissants. What's going on?"

"Nothing that needs to be talked about," I reply quietly. My eyes meet his; seeing the worry in them is enough to make my own eyes suddenly fill. It feels nice to be cared about—cared for. "Peeta, I just need…" I stop, looking at the ingredients he set out for me and I wave my hand over them. "This."

He nods in understanding. "Then, let's start."

This is the first time that I've worked with yeast. We combine it with water and sugar before setting it aside to let it foam. Then, he tells me the measurements of flour, bread flour, sugar, and salt that I'll need to put in the mixer. As those mix in, we check on the yeast mixture before adding it in along with milk and, of course, butter.

I'm starting to learn how butter is a big thing in the world of baking.

I feel myself begin to calm down as the dough begins to take shape. I flour the table as well as my hands before following Peeta's guidance on how to knead the croissant dough.

"You're catching on," he tells me. I can hear the pride in his voice.

I feel lighter already.

The door opens and Robbie peeks in, a bright smile on his face. "Morning Peeta! Morning Katniss!" He turns to me. "Gale Hawthorne is out front looking for you."

A hard ball of anxiety drops into my stomach. "Tell him that I'm busy and to not bother me while I'm working. Actually, just tell him I'm not here."

"O…kay." Robbie gives me a quick nod before closing the door.

I let out the breath I've been holding before looking to Peeta. There's a definite look of defeat on his face.

"What now?" I ask, interrupting his reverie.

"Now, butter a bowl and place the dough in it. We'll cover it and put it in the fridge."

Peeta doesn't ask me, knowing full well that I'll tell him when I'm ready. I like that about him; there's no judgement, just companionship and kind words.

I find myself telling him twenty minutes into the dough-rising process.

"He asked me to marry him, you know."

Peeta stops, his hands mid-knead for some dinner rolls.

I'm working on scones as they were very popular yesterday while I speak.

"I said no, of course," I continue. "We were friends for so long and maybe there might've been a chance at some point for it to go further—but it never did." I chuckle bitterly and meet Peeta's eyes. "You know, he only noticed that I was even a girl because Darius, from the Hob, said I was pretty?" I begin to knead. "No girl, even a girl like me, wants to be noticed because some stranger bothered to decipher that she was an actual female."

I sniffle my eyes blurring.

"Gale stopped talking to me after that." I turn to Peeta, who is wiping his hands against his apron. "And, he hides things, you know. Madge…I never even knew that they had a thing. She was telling everyone that they were involved for a year. Madge doesn't even know that she accepted his proposal six months after I turned his down."

Peeta is suddenly pulling me to him, both of us covered in flour and my tears.

"He was supposed to be my friend…" I sob into his shirt. "And, I feel like I never knew him at all. I'm mad because he made me question my own judgement on who to trust—" Peeta holds me tighter, his silent promise to be here for times like this. "He broke my trust in people…and in friendship."

I look up to meet Peeta's eyes and gently he wipes my tears away, his thumbs brushing them off my lashes.

"I feel dumb for crying," I sniff suddenly.

Peeta gives me a small smile. "I think that everything you just told me is a pretty damn good reason to cry."

That first croissant batch is completely ruined.

* * *

"I'm sorry that I told Gale where you were," Prim says when I return home. "I knew he'd wait here if I didn't."

"It's fine," I reply with a sigh. "Only I did have a complete meltdown in front of Peeta." I place my things on the table. "There, I was a crying mess in the middle of all the baking ingredients and he was still nice to me. I ruined the first batch of croissants!"

"Katniss, can I tell you something?" Prim pulls up the chair next to me and sits down. She takes my hand. "I think you might like Peeta."

I laugh. "Of course, I like him. He's a very likeable person."

"No, I mean I think you like _like_ him," my sister says. "You talk about him when you're home and you let him linger."

"What do you mean?"

"Peeta walks you home and instead of just getting into the house right away, you stand out there and keep talking to him!" Prim grins widely. "You never talk that much to anyone except for me and, before that, Gale."

"That's not true." It comes out a little weaker than I thought it would. "Peeta is my friend. It couldn't possibly go any further than that."

"Why not?"

I can't seem to answer the question though I stay up all night trying to figure out an answer.

* * *

"A cake?" I look to Peeta in surprise. "Do you really think I can take this on?"

"Why couldn't you?" The assurance he has in me—in his eyes—makes something inside flutter. "You have taken on much more than I think you thought you could. I always knew you were smart, Katniss, but baking is much more than that. It's about heart; it's about giving a little bit of yourself to nourish other people. You take care of people, and that's why you've done so well—because caring comes instinctually."

"You didn't have to tell me all of that," I reply as I put on my apron. Peeta moves behind me to tie the strings. "I'm going to make the cake."

"I say it because it's what I see." I take a shaky breath, feeling his words caress my ears.

Something in my stomach twists and I whip around to face him. My nose just barely brushes his and it's like a spark has been kindled, because my hand reaches to the nape of his neck before bringing my mouth over his.

He tastes like buttercream icing.

My arms weave around his neck, deepening the kiss and a dormant feeling in my stomach awakens.

I think it's hunger.

The kind of hunger that makes me press closer to him, feeling the hard planes of his body, that has me moving my hips along his trying to connect myself to him in every possible way. When his tongue sweeps along mine, the hunger roars inside me, demanding to be satisfied.

His lips pull away slightly to move along my jaw and against my ear. "I would be lying if I didn't admit that I've thought about this…" He moves down my neck, sucking my skin and causing my nerves to burn. "Oh, Katniss…"

I pull him closer, desperate for him to keep going. "More…" His lips are on mine again, our kisses open and…wet. I'm almost weeping in this inexplicit need to take it all a little further.

I've never done this, but I've heard stories of what happens at the Slag Heap. I've once ran into a couple in the woods, her hands digging into the man's back as he moved against her during their frantic tryst.

I never understood it before.

Now I do.

My hands move down his back, nails grazing against his spine, and Peeta shivers, a desperate hiss escaping his mouth and seeping into my skin. I reach, eager to feel his skin and wondering if it is as warm as I have imagined in that deep part of my mind that allows these unbidden thoughts.

"Please." His plead is desperate.

I did that; I have made Peeta Mellark hunger for my mouth…my touch.

My lips reach, ready to take care of him as he's always taken care of me.

"Peeta—" There's a knock on the door and Robbie looks in as we jump apart. He gives us an easy smile. "Do you know where the cake order for Mrs. Lodge is?"

It takes a moment for Peeta to recover before he rushes over to the fridge to retrieve an already-wrapped box.

"Tell her to take it out of her icebox about an hour before serving," he instructs, presenting it to Robbie. "It's already paid for."

"Thanks," Robbie replies, then looks to me. "You okay Katniss? You look a little red."

I muster up a smile. "Yes. It's a little warmer up here today, that's all."

As quickly as he arrived, Robbie quickly disappears, his footsteps fading as he heads downstairs.

Peeta runs his fingers along the back of his head and gives me a smile.

"I wasn't expecting that," he says with a tentative smile.

"Neither was I." I return the smile carefully, my chest still thrumming. "So what now?"

He looks around for a moment before meeting my eyes.

"I guess I'll teach you to make a cake and try to keep my hands off of you."

I can't help but laugh.

* * *

"I can't walk you home tonight," Peeta tells me as we stand by the back door. "Mr. Stewart is coming by later to install the window."

"It's okay," I reply, my lips rising at the pout on his own. "But, I guess my job here is done."

Peeta suddenly presses his mouth to mine eagerly, my hands reach to his thick hair anchoring myself before my knees buckle from the insistence of our kiss.

He pulls away, breathing harsh, and stares at me, fire in those blues.

"Katniss, do you have any idea how I feel about you?" he asks in a low voice.

"I can imagine." I smooth down his hair and Peeta closes his eyes at my tender movement. "How long?"

"Since we were kids…since you got up and sang the Valley Song." He opens his eyes. "So bold, so unafraid. Not at all like me."

"You took a chance on a girl who had no idea how to bake," I reply. "And, you taught her how to make a yellow cake with chocolate frosting." My eyes go to the wrapped box as Peeta insisted that I take my first ever cake with me. "That's not an easy feat—to be so patient with someone like me. Now, that's something to admire."

"You took it on as I knew you would, just like when you were a kid—bold and unafraid." He reaches to touch the tip of my bread. "And, where do we go from here?"

"I don't know." My mouth finds his once more before I pull away to look into those beautiful blues, breathless at the passion in them. I reached for his hands, entwining our fingers. "But, isn't that the best part of this?"

* * *

I take a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Instead of heading home, I found my feet leading me through the town and towards the grand, red brick house that belong to the Undersees. Since Madge's father is the mayor, the Capitol has granted him the home for as long as he is in the position; he has been there since I can remember.

"Katniss?" So lost in my thoughts, I don't realize that the lithe figure of Madge Under—Hawthorne stands in front of me. She gives me a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to give you this," I say and hold up the box. "A sort of congratulations…" My voice trails off awkwardly. "It's the first cake I ever made—with Peeta's help, of course."

Madge beams at me. "That's so nice of you! Come in!" She ushers me in and I take in the opulence of the rich red wallpaper and mahogany furnishing of their entryway. "Come into the den and I'll grab some plates."

"You don't have to," I tell her. "I thought that since you didn't have a toasting that the cake would make a good substitute. My mother told me that you had a nice ceremony, but it was more a light lunch for the reception."

"It was a great day," Madge muses, her eyes bright. She takes my free arm, leading me into the room closest to the door. She suddenly turns to me, her stare sober. "I know that you weren't sick. Gale explained it all—that he had asked you first…"

"I don't love him like that—" I assure her. "—if that's what you're asking. It just hurt to feel like I didn't know the person that I had spent so much time with."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

In the archway of the room is Gale. He walks in and it's so strange to see him in tailormade clothes, his hair neat and no dirt on his face from our romps in the woods.

It's like he's a different person.

He is a different person.

"I'm going to let you two have a moment." Madge reaches for the box, still in my grasp. "Thank you again, Katniss."

Before she leaves, Madge squeezes her husband's hand and my insides twist at such a solid gesture.

I realize that I'm aching for the same.

"I think I just got caught up in what I thought I wanted," Gale says as he offers me a seat. I sit on the plush chair as he sits in the one adjacent to me. "I guess I asked for the wrong reasons."

"I think it just helped solidify your decision." I look to him. "It's just that I thought I knew everything about you. I was wrong."

"I'm sorry—"

"It's okay," I reply. "There's some things that you keep to yourself until the right person to tell them to come along."

Gale nods. "Madge got me to talk and that was enough. You and I were just too much alike, you know; we never really talked."

"I know," I find myself saying, recalling the many times that Peeta and I worked silently—but it didn't feel at all stale. Those quiet moments were when I felt the most content. "I think I understand now."

My friend looks to me, his greys clouded. "Is there someone?"

I nod. "I guess there's always been."

"Then, I'm happy for you." Gale reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. "You deserve it."

"I should go." I stand up quickly and he follows suit. "Prim must be wondering where I am."

"I can walk you home—"

I shake my head at him. "No." My eyes look around before meeting his sadly. "It's fine."

Gale understands, for instead of protesting, he leads me to the door.

"Maybe one day, I can go hunting with you. Madge has always wanted to explore the forest."

"Sure," I agree as I step out of the door.

We both know that this will never happen.

* * *

On my third day at the Mellark Bakery, Peeta led me outside and presented an oversized milk jug.

Leaning down to examine the container, I look to him in confusion. "What's in it?"

"If you ever need to—" He lifted the container to reveal a key fastened to the bottom. "—this is here."

"I highly doubt that I'll need to seek an entrance into the bakery," I assured him.

As I enter the bakery, I recognize how foolish I sounded.

Because just walking into this place, smelling flour and yeast, feeling the warmth of the ovens gives me a peace beyond understanding. I go to the pantry, finding my ingredients: flour, yeast, butter…

It all comes out instinctually as I go to the mixer and set my mixed ingredients to the speed I need, remembering everything that Peeta has taught me. I can almost hear his voice in my ear, guiding me with such patience that I realize how stupid I was to never realize the love behind it all.

I think about how patient he will be in the future, imagining little hands that knead expertly, their grandfather's recipes ingrained in them since birth.

My own floured hands knead, knowing the exact amount of pressure and knowing exactly when the gluten has sufficiently developed. The smell of toasted walnuts fill the room and I think with a laugh remembering that first loaf and how I couldn't even decipher how he could have possibly done this. Now, as I add in the walnuts I've toasted and berries that I've washed and cut, it's second nature.

Proofing happens right before the sun rises and carefully, I take my dough forming it as I remember Peeta had done so many times. I never realized how many times I watched him shape nor do I know when I just kept watching him for other reasons.

"What are you doing?"

The sun is up and I've finished washing my supplies when Peeta walks down the stairs groggily. He's wearing the same shirt from yesterday—the shirt I kissed him in—and I swear I think I see where I've stretched it out, eager to feel his warm skin.

He looks beautiful in the morning.

"I've decided something," I tell him as I wipe my hands and go to him. "I'm not ready to go."

"Katniss." His eyes are soft and he places his hands on my shoulders. "No one told you that you had to go."

Pulling away before we get too caught up in one another, I go to the oven and, taking the wooden peel next to it, I retrieve my creation.

"You baked bread?" Peeta stares at the golden loaf that rests on the island before him. "I never taught you—"

"You didn't need to." My hand goes to my chest. "It came from here."

I reach for a knife and slice into the loaf—it's a rush to hear the perfect crunch of that crust.

Taking a piece, I offer it to him.

I was never good with words and I'm not sure if Peeta will understand.

I hope he will.

Last night, as I lay in my bed, my father's words echoed in my mind until it became all too clear that I needed to come to this bakery.

" _The toasting ceremony started because many of us did not have much. However, what we did have were promises…vows to always love one another. And we fed each other pieces of bread as a promise to keep each other nourished, to nourish one another's lives, to nourish our home and hearth, to nourish our children, to keep one another full till our last breaths. When you think about it that way, Katniss, we had more than enough."_

I know we will have more than enough.

We will have one another. We will have our children.

We will have this bakery for them to grow and nourish.

All Peeta has to do is open his heart—and his mouth.

After a moment, he does.

I smile, blinking tears down my cheeks, as I feed him.

We can worry about getting the license later.

 **FIN**

It was very different to write a non-Hunger Games Katniss, because I feel she would probably be a little less…morose? I don't know, but I do love her relationship with Prim in this since it's like their more friends than Katniss always having to protect her.

I'm pretty sure that everyone has their own version of the toasting ceremony, this was mine.

Tomorrow is Hubbs and my wedding anniversary so send us good vibes in the form of prompts and or/reviews.

The recipes depicted in this story all come from Martha Stewart if you're interested in trying them yourself (I'm not much of a baker, lol)

Thanks for reading!

-LaLa


	3. Lay here beside me and stay for a while

Hey everyone!

So, I'm kind of going into unchartered territory with this one-shot. First, because I don't usually dabble in D13 stories since I feel I'm utter shite at it. However, at an anon's request for an Everlark D13 reunion (with smut), I'll give it a go.

Second, I'm going to be doubling this one-shot with another prompt from another anon (or possibly the same?), who is requesting an arranged marriage Everlark.

I hope you enjoy this _very_ broad interpretation on D13 and all the events of Mockingjay.

 _Summary: "My father once told me that you can't control who you love. That's not the way life works—and for some reason, damned or not, I do love you."_

 _I sigh, my hand reaching to caress that still all-too-thin face of his. "That is one hell of a proposal, Peeta."_

 _Katniss and Peeta navigate through life in District 13—as newlyweds. Mockingjay AU._

Lay here beside me and stay for a while

Around me, everyone and everything is in chaos.

Though this is the medical ward and this frenetic energy is supposed to be normal. On the other hand, it is not every day that a highly dangerous rescue mission for surviving Hunger Games tributes is successful.

Let me start from the beginning.

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Peeta was taken prisoner. He was thought to be dead. I believed he was most likely dead.

I bite back that last thought as I continue my walk through the ward—it would have probably been best if he were dead.

Peeta Mellark, however, is very much alive.

They've placed him in his very own exam room at the end of the ward. I don't know what to expect; his televised interviews with Caesar Flickerman during his capture only provided a baseline look into what was happening to him. With each interview, I watched him lose a little more weight, I watched the dark circles under his blue eyes grow deeper, and I watched that spark of hope that I had begun to depend on grow smaller and smaller.

I wonder—has it all been snuffed away?

I don't even realize in-between my thoughts that I've been running until I am at his door and need to catch my breath. Behind me, Gale Hawthorne stands wearily against an archway of the main ward, his stance stiff and his arms crossed.

He meets my eyes, greys full of pain. "He's waiting for you."

Before, my first instinct would have been to reach to Gale for comfort and assurance. It's different now—we're different now, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. We've grown apart since I won the Games and, though I desperately tried to cling to what were the solid things in my life…my family…archery…I found losing him not quite as impactful.

Is that cold of me? Maybe.

But Gale has always known this about me. I never looked for love or believed in it. I have seen how it ruins people.

Peeta has never seen that side of me.

I've realized over the time that we've been separated that I never wanted him to. I guess I always want him to see me as that girl who sang the Valley Song when we were kids. That girl had hope…and faith…she believed in love.

The door of the exam room opens and Haymitch, our mentor, steps out.

He doesn't say a word, only waving me inside with a lazy gesture.

Taking a breath, I walk into the room and I'm immediately assaulted with the scent of antiseptic. It burns my nostrils and my eyes water blurring my vision of the lone boy sitting on the exam table, his back facing me.

I can see the exhaustion in his bones; his shoulders are slumped and he can just barely hold his head up.

Rounding the table, I slowly approach until I am right in front of him.

His face is almost skeletal, cheekbones sunken in and skin bone white.

"Oh, Peeta." The words tumble out and his head snaps, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine.

"Katniss?" His voice is roughened by torture and age. "You're here?"

I bring my hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him close enough to press my forehead to his.

"I'm here…" Peeta gasps, a sob just barely escaping his pale chapped lips, and something inside reaches at his anguish. "I'm real…"

My mouth finds his, mashing us together in a starved joining, and my stomach coils in remembrance of stolen kisses in our cave. I have missed him more than I can ever admit to him or even myself. Instead, I press myself closer, our chests meeting so he can feel every bit of life in me.

I don't even realize that I'm crying until my mouth parts and I can taste my tears against his tongue.

I make a silent vow that I will never let Peeta Mellark out of my sight.

* * *

Severely dehydrated, Peeta has to spend a few days in the hospital ward. Reluctantly, I leave him during the day for meetings and propos filming for Coin. This is torture as I lack the charisma that is needed to inspire the rebellion. Peeta was much more of the charmer during our time in the Capitol.

At night, I sneak into the ward to be by his side. Prim knows not to expect me until the wee hours of the morning and, though I know she is curious, my younger sister never pries.

We don't go any further than simple kisses for those first few nights. We're comfortable in those kisses as we had done so many times during our Victory Tour. It was what was expected of the Star-Crossed Lovers of District 12, those little bits of affection for the crowd.

However, as he gets to the end of his stay and Peeta gets stronger, the kisses begin to change.

Sometimes, I want to touch his tongue to mine, to taste every little bit of our kiss. Other times, he demands a rougher touch; a hard kiss and his lower lip between my teeth as I nip with just enough pressure…the groan that escapes his mouth causes my lower abdomen to twist with longing…

There are times when I'm in council with Coin, or even during my scheduled lunch, that I hear his frantic moans in my ear.

' _Yes Katniss…more…the things I want to do to you…'_

When Peeta is two days to his release from the hospital ward, I find myself in his arms again. We've become adept to maneuvering around his hospital bed and I sit astride him, my chest pressed to his and his fingers trailing up and down my back.

"I'm going to miss this," Peeta tells me as my own hands caress his nourished body. He has filled out a little more, most of his weight back due to supplements and delicious food, courtesy of the District 13 kitchen. "I can't sleep without you, you know."

"Because you don't sleep," I respond as I draw myself up. "You just sit here with me and cause all sorts of trouble."

He smiles and I feel him harden underneath me. It doesn't escape my mind that my slit lies perfectly against his underside. A small shudder of pleasure spreads through me and I press my mouth together to stop a heavy groan from escaping.

"I'll take the punishment," he replies. His hands move to anchor my hips and he shifts up, the head of him pressing into my clit. I hiss and I can feel my whole my body react, the tightening of my nipples and the sudden rush of wetness at my center, begging for just a little more. "Don't leave."

My eyes close as we begin to move, the thin cloth of my District 13-supplied pajamas and the flimsiness of his hospital gown our only barrier.

"I have to leave…" My palms press against his broad chest and his hand works its way under my pajama top. His fingers easily find my nipples, twisting and pinching until I'm wanting to work my bottoms off to let him inside of me. "It's part of the rules here."

Peeta growls, low and rough into my ear. "And, when did Katniss Everdeen ever follow the rules?"

His fingers, which have found their way inside my bottoms, push aside the cloth against my slit and plunge into me without warning.

I come hard.

My entire body seizes, his fingers soaked in me, as I let out a moan that I don't doubt is heard throughout the floor.

I end up waking up late and my mother, who works in the hospital ward, is required to give me the contraception shot.

* * *

There is dead silence as our team finishes watching my latest propo.

I close my eyes, already knowing what everyone is thinking. It is a complete and utter mess. I am supposed to look like a leader—their Mockingjay—and me barely working through my speech in front of a digital screen and a fake army is not giving anyone assurance that I live up to the name.

"This is unacceptable, Katniss," Coin intones.

I meet her cool eyes. "I know."

Except for a rough cough from Haymitch, everyone else remains silent. Plutarch Heavensbee, who wrote my dialog for the propo, shakes his head while Beetee removes his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Boggs, one of the commanders, purses his lips. Johanna—who has recovered sans hair—and Gale keep their eyes between me and Coin. We are missing Finnick, who I am sure would be laughing at my pathetic rise-to-arms speech, as he and Annie married quietly after her hospital release. They are currently locked in their room for a makeshift honeymoon.

"That's not Katniss."

The comment comes from Peeta, who sits next to me. He has just recently joined the meetings with Coin, who welcomes him with as much warmth as her steel-eyed self could.

"Care to elaborate?" Coin responds. She sits in the chair in front of me.

"Katniss is no good at pretending," he explains. "Think of all the times that people have responded to her; when she talked about Prim during her interview…when Rue was taken from—" His eyes close for a moment and underneath the table, my hand reaches for his. "All those times, she's saved my life. People looked to her during those moments because she was humanistic. She wasn't a fighter or a killer. She was just a girl."

"Peeta is right," Haymitch adds. "Sponsors fell all over themselves when they saw her nursing Peeta. They offered medicines, food…just about anything short of getting them out of that arena."

"If they see her as she is, not this made-up version spouting words in front of fake soldiers, it would definitely help," Boggs says. "It seems that emotion works for Katniss—as much as she tries to keep it in." The man gives me a smile. "They don't need the Mockingjay right now. Just show them the girl—Katniss Everdeen."

Coin listens to all of the feedback. After a moment, she sits back with her hands folded against her in contemplation.

"Fine." Coin turns to me, her stare unnerving. "It's time to tell Panem that we have rescued their champions." She stands up, her smile tight. "And the best way to do that is with a wedding."

"Who is getting married?" I blurt out.

"You and Peeta," she informs me.

"Panem already thinks we're married," Peeta says. "We were supposed to have had a toasting…and a baby."

"Everyone believes that Katniss has lost the baby," Heavensbee explains to Peeta. "Your capture was too stressful on her."

"The best way to reaffirm your love and let Panem know that their Mockingjay still triumphs is to have the wedding—the wedding that Snow never allowed you to have because he threw you into an arena," Coin declares, her eyes taking on a sharp gleam.

"What if we don't want this?" I ask. "Peeta has just barely left the hospital ward. He should be recovering, not being forced into a sham marriage!"

"It isn't like you two don't share anything," Coin counters. "Or, are the reports of your nightly hospital visits untrue?"

My face goes warm. "It wasn't like that." Peeta squeezes my hand in support—or shared humiliation. "We were just…talking."

Coin pulls out a folder and reads through quickly before looking to me once more. "Till early morning? The last visit until…the morning shift change?"

Somewhere behind me, Johanna is cackling.

"I just…" I stand trying to speak my piece, my resolve wavering. "I don't want it to be this way." I turn, meeting everyone's eyes and finally stopping at Peeta. "Especially not for you."

Peeta reaches, covering my hand with his—and damn it, my eyes are beginning to water.

"I will arrange everything," Coin announces. "This wedding will happen, Katniss."

Since there is nothing else to say, I turn away and walk out the closest door.

* * *

Since District 13 is underground, we are forbidden to venture outside in the case that we give away our location. However, Coin's staff has created chambers that mimic the outside world. It can be anything you want at your voice instruction.

I lay on the floor of my fake meadow, looking up at the clouds above me. I can almost smell the breeze and feel the grass against my skin.

"Why this place?"

Peeta joins me on the ground.

I stare up at the simulated sky, not yet ready to meet his eyes or the reality of our situation.

"When I went hunting, I use to rest in a meadow like this. At those moments, it made me forget that the Games even existed and that I was allowed to want things."

"What did you want?" Peeta asks, drawing up his knees to his chest. He looks so young, just like he did the day that he threw that burnt bread to me and saved my life—my family's life. That seems like a lifetime ago.

"I don't know." I let out a frustrated breath. "I guess I just wanted to have something normal—whatever that means."

"I guess a forced marriage wasn't one of them," he responds.

"Peeta." I sit up so I can meet his eyes. "Our marriage—the toasting you told Caesar about—it wasn't real. It was a means to an end, just like the whole baby thing."

"What if it could be real?" he questions. "Katniss…I was taken to the Capitol and tortured. They told me you were dead…they showed me pictures of your body…of your lifeless face—and I wanted to die with you."

My hands reach for his. "Peeta…I didn't realize…"

"Then, I was rescued and you were alive—it was like a dream," Peeta continued, his voice thick. "And, then you told me that this was real. I just never want to let you go. Because for me, it really is…till death."

I can't tell him that I'm not sure if I'm in love with him or even if I do love him. Love is an unfamiliar, intangible emotion that I have no ability to grasp—not the kind that he wants, anyway.

Letting out a breath, I take his hand.

"Peeta, I can't get you into something like this. I will work harder to make a better propos."

"No offense, Katniss, but you suck."

I let out a laugh, feeling lighter than I've felt in months…maybe even years. Peeta beams at me and my stomach tumbles. It's scary to feel this reaction, but I welcome it as I've welcomed him into my arms these past few months.

Peeta suddenly rises and my breath hitches seeing him get on his knee—the working one.

"My father once told me that you can't control who you love. That's not the way life works—and for some reason, damned or not, I do love you."

Around me, the sky seems to change, suddenly turning into the deep-orange sky that's he loves. I have no doubt that we're being watched, but I'm not too sure by who. It's hard to find allies in District 13. Besides Haymitch and my family, Peeta is about the only one, that I can trust.

And, in the back of my mind, having him as a husband might be even better than just having him as an ally.

I sigh, my hand reaching to caress that still all-too-thin face of his. "That is one hell of a proposal, Peeta."

Peeta shrugs, the sweetness in his expression making me believe that this could work.

"We have to be partners in _everything_ ," I tell him. "We can't let them change us."

Peeta nods, his eyes gazing around the room. He knows that we are being watched by Coin or one of her cronies, maybe even more closely than we were watched by Snow.

We're stuck on this never-ending train ride.

But, we're in it together.

I stand up, holding my hand out to help him up and he gladly takes my hand.

When we are eye to eye, I take his hands in mine. "Okay."

Peeta brings me close, his arms weaving my waist, a smile in his expression. "Okay?"

I can't help but press my mouth to his.

We agree to marry—on our own terms.

* * *

Coin decides to bring in a filming crew for the wedding.

I spot them as I'm led down an aisle of orange and red leaves by Haymitch, of all people. Cressida, the film director, calls to Castor and Pollux, her cameramen, to move to the front. We were just barely introduced before I was instructed to start my march.

I tighten my hold on Haymitch's arm and he leans toward me. "You okay there, sweetheart?"

"Other than having to get married in front of everyone in Panem?" I reply, my mouth in a tight smile. "I'm great."

My former mentor chuckles. "Well, you got me sober enough to walk you down here in this monkey suit." He looks over at me. "You clean up real nice, though."

The off-the-shoulder dress is cream with lace sleeves and cinched a little too tightly around my waist—Coin wanted to emphasize the loss of my pretend child by showing all of Panem my thin figure. The skirt flows lightly around me, stopping right at my feet, making it easier for me to move a little more gracefully than usual.

I have to admit that the veil is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. My mother, along with a few other women from District 12, crafted it and it is so delicate that it took more time to fix it around my loose waves than it did to put on my dress.

"Thanks," I reply quickly and take a deep breath. "I can do this."

"Yes, you can," Haymitch tells me. "Especially when a man looks at you like that."

My gaze rises to Peeta at the end of the aisle. He is in a dark grey suit, lent to him by one of the commanders. A single orange leaf is pinned to his jacket—and I know that it is Prim who was behind it. She is the only one I've ever mentioned Peeta's favorite color to.

The look in his eyes— _oh God_ …at this moment, I wish this was all real.

And, for a moment, after the rings are exchanged and the vows have been said—calmly by Peeta and shakily by me—and the officiant tells him to kiss his bride, it is real.

* * *

"You are so beautiful, Katniss." Prim beams from ear to ear. "I can't believe you're married!" She embraces me as we look out at the crowd of people dancing in the center of the room. "This is really magical."

"It is," I agree. "I do wish that it was in District 12 though."

Except there is no District 12, there is only smoke and ruins.

I look to where Peeta stands talking to Heavensbee and Finnick, who has managed to detach himself from his wife. Annie sits with Johanna at a nearby table, drinks in their hands.

I meet my husband's eyes— _my husband!_ —and give him a smile. I realize that I am his only family; the Mellarks all perished in the attack. Peeta is now the sole heir to whatever remains of the Mellark Bakery…as well as any children we could possibly have.

The thought alone has me reaching for a glass of alcohol from a nearby service table.

"You okay, Katniss?" Prim asks, her eyes suddenly worried.

I didn't realize that I had been silent for so long, my thoughts on Peeta's lost family.

"Just thinking of what could've been."

"Hey Catnip." I whip around to see Gale standing beside me. He musters a small smile. "You make a beautiful bride."

Prim looks between us, giving us both an anxious grin.

"I'm just going to check on Mom…make sure she's not drinking too much…"

I nod and Prim hurries off to leave us in silence.

"Thank you," I reply congenially—and to break the silence. "Thank your mother for helping with the veil." I finger the bit that frames my face. "It was favorite part of the whole…" I gesture at myself. "…ensemble."

We stare at one another for a moment awkwardly. After all, what is there left to be said? I made my choice—maybe long before I even realized. It was somehow always going to be Peeta. I think Gale realizes that, because we never could make that transition from friends to anything more. Neither one of us took that step.

With Peeta, I have leapt full force.

"I don't want it to be this way between us," Gale says suddenly. "We're friends, right?"

"We're family," I correct. "Cousins, to be exact." He looks hurt and I relent. "We are friends."

"Good," he replies. "I am happy for you, Catnip. Even if you don't know it yet, I think you're going to be happy with Mellark." Gale looks out at the floor. "Did you want to dance?"

My eyes go the dance floor, watching couples sway back and forth. It looks all too intimate for me. Or, maybe the thought of having to dance like that with Gale is what is making me feel awkward. We were never the touchy kind of friends; it was more a keep-at-arms-length kind of friendship.

At least to me, anyway.

"He took my idea." I turn to find Peeta behind me. "I'm sorry that I took so long to come back to you. Everyone wants to know my secret."

I smile, despite the discomfort of being between my husband and Gale. "What secret?"

"On how I got the Mockingjay to marry me." Peeta takes my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips so he can press a delicate kiss to each one. "I told them that the Mockingjay is not that difficult. It's Katniss Everdeen that's the hard one to break through."

Gale can't help but chuckle at his words. "He has you pegged."

"Before I end up upsetting you…" Peeta takes the glass from my hands, knowing that alcohol can sometimes fuel my emotions. "…may I have a dance with my wife?"

"Peeta, I don't really know how…" I look out at the dance floor. There's plenty of ways for me to mess this up. "We can't look bad out there; everyone in Panem will see."

"Go on, Catnip," Gale urges, his gaze sad. "This dance isn't for Panem—this is for the both of you."

Steeling my courage, I nod and give Peeta a smile. "Alright, but—"

I go to Gale and lean to press a simple kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for being my friend." I step back and take Peeta's hand, meeting Gale's eyes once more. "Goodbye Gale."

He nods, hands to his sides. "Goodbye…Katniss."

I join Peeta's side and we walk to the dance floor. He looks to me, eyes suddenly serious. "You alright?"

"Yes." I turn and place my hand to his shoulder as he wraps an arm around my waist. "I guess it's a little sad to lose that close of a friendship." We join hands and begin to sway to the slow tune that is now being played by the band from District 4. "It just never turned into what he wanted."

"And did you want that?" Peeta asks as I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I wanted the comfort of familiarity," I explain. "But that can never grow into…fire."

I feel Peeta's chuckle on my cheek. "And, we are fire?"

"You are the hearth." I raise my head to meet his tender gaze. "You hold me…keep me from burning everything around me…I am kindled in you…and together, we can bring the people around us warmth, help them to find their way home."

"I didn't know you were such a poet," Peeta says into my ear.

I smile into his collar, smelling that sweetness that is my husband. "It's the alcohol."

He snorts. "I don't believe that!"

We are lost in the music and the closeness. I feel myself barely aware of the people around me, squarely focused on the man in front of me. Peeta takes our joined hands and presses them into his chest.

"I know you don't want to believe it," he tells me. "But, I do love you." I take a shaky breath, ready to admit that I don't know what I feel. I think Peeta can see the panic in my eyes, for he gives me a calm smile. "Don't worry. You don't have to say it back. I just think that it's important for us to keep everything open between us."

"Okay." We lapse in a silence as we continue our dance. Something aches inside me and I want to say something…anything to convey just how much he means to me. "In the spirit of keeping an open dialogue—" I move closer until our noses are just pressed together. "I want to kiss you—but I don't want anyone to see."

Peeta smiles, lifting my chin. "That's an easy solution."

Reaching for my veil, he takes the first tier of it and tosses it over himself to cover us both in the magnificent billow of netting.

Under the gauziness of white and hidden from the cameras, our lips meet for the second time as husband and wife.

* * *

We don't get much of a honeymoon.

Coin immediately has us out and about, traveling to different districts. Cressida and her team come along with us, filming bits and pieces. She is a focused person, always going to Castor and Pollux to instruct them on what she wants conveyed. Messalla, her assistant, takes notes as she walks from place to place on a screen that seems to be perpetually in his hands.

She tells Peeta and I that they voluntarily left the Capitol.

"Why?" I look to her, confused as to why she would leave a somewhat comfortable life and position in the Capitol to live underground.

"For you," Cressida replies and then her eyes go to Peeta. "For both of you."

I'm unnerved by those words and feel my body tense. Peeta's hand goes to the small of my back, rubbing small circles against the roughness of my uniform.

The small gesture warms me to the very center and I turn to him. "How did you know?"

Peeta shrugs. "I can just tell when you're tense." He looks to the concrete building in front of us. "And truthfully, who wouldn't be in this situation?"

We have come to District 8 to visit a hospital where the wounded reside from the latest Capitol bombing.

Together, we walk inside and are greeted by Commander Paylor. She sizes me up immediately, her stare penetrating as we head down the hall. The smell is assaulting, that same antiseptic scent from our hospital but mixed with blood. However, I know Paylor is watching me so I square my shoulders and greet everyone.

My eyes go to a young girl with large blue eyes. She can't be more than 5 or 6 as she is so very tiny. One arm is bandaged, but the other clings onto a small ragdoll.

I kneel before her. "That's a pretty doll. Did you make it?"

She shakes her head. "My mommy made it."

I feel my mouth relax in a smile. "She is very talented." My hand reaches to cup her small face. "What's your name?"

Her hand reaches to mine, giving me a smile. "Natia."

"Natia…I love it," I tell her and look around. "Where is your mother?"

Paylor places a hand on my shoulder. "Natia's mother…has gone missing during the last air raid."

That is pretty much a death sentence.

Sweet Natia has been orphaned due to Snow's wrath of the rebellion—and of me.

"Oh." I look to Natia's bright eyes and muster up a smile. "Would you like to walk with me?" She nods and takes my hand.

Peeta, who had been speaking to other patients, joins me. "Who is this?"

"This is Natia," I informed him. "Natia, this is Peeta, my husband."

"I know," she says with a cheerful smile. "I watched your wedding!"

I have forgotten how our ceremony had been broadcasted as a propo. "You did?"

"Yes. You had the most beautiful dress I had ever seen," she informs me. Natia looks to Peeta. "You looked nice, too."

We laugh at the bluntness of her words. "Thanks, but I agree. Katniss looked very beautiful," he replies.

"Some of the older girls have pictures of when you were dancing," Natia says as we continue to the main room. "They all love the one with the veil."

Despite our hope of keeping that kiss a secret, the photograph underneath the veil had been touted out by Coin for all of Panem to see. It is actually a beautiful picture—and we do look happy.

As happy as you can be with a rebellion happening.

When we enter the main room of the hospital, we are greeted at a sight before us.

The entirety of District 8 is before us. I can hear Cressida commanding Castor and Pollux to get shots of all of this. However, my eyes are focused on the citizens whose eyes remained trained on myself, Peeta, and Natia.

All of them are in some degree of injury, but I am relieved to see so many of them alive. Though war-torn, District 8 is still beating within these walls.

"Congratulations on the wedding," a girl about Prim's age says to Peeta and me.

"Thank you," Peeta croaks out.

I can tell he is thinking of our own District, wishing that there were more survivors…that someone in his family had survived.

"What about the baby?" The question comes from a woman in a wheelchair.

I swallow down the lump in my throat; I hate to lie.

"The baby didn't survive…" Peeta's arm goes around my shoulders. "It was too much stress after Snow took Peeta."

There is a collective upset over my announcement.

"We're with you, Katniss." The response comes from a young man. "Are you with us?"

I look around at all the suffering, the weariness…my eyes go to Natia, who doesn't understand that her mother is not coming back…then to Peeta, who was tortured in the Capitol but somehow found his way back to me.

And something inside me burns.

"Yes," I tell them. "I am with you."

There are no words needed as they raised their hands in a three-finger salute.

* * *

Commander Boggs is waiting for us at the hovercraft. He nods at Paylor and then looks to us.

"We're ready," he tells Peeta and me.

Cressida and her staff head inside the hovercraft as I turn to Paylor.

"Thank you," I say to her.

"It was a pleasure, Mockingjay," she replies neutrally.

"And…" I meet her straight in the eyes. "…will you watch over Natia?"

Her mouth breaks into a smile. "Of course, Katniss."

I nod and head into the hovercraft, sitting across from Cressida.

"We got some very good footage, Katniss," she informs me. "Coin is going to love it."

Sighing, I sit back tiredly and close my eyes. Peeta, who sits next to me, squeezes my hand.

Sometimes, that's all I really need.

This quiet is suddenly interrupted by a loud rumble below us. My eyes burst open and my stomach drops as the hovercraft speeds up.

"What's happening?" Peeta calls out to Boggs at the head of the hovercraft.

"District 8 is under attack again!" Boggs looks to the pilot. "GO!"

"We have to help them!" I cry out and undo the straps of my seat, rushing to the lone window in the back of the craft.

All I see is smoke and fire.

"Coin's command—you and Peeta are our number one priority." Boggs is at my side, his eyes hard. "There's nothing you can do for them. Back to your seat, Mockingjay."

* * *

Paylor is able to communicate back to Coin, later that evening. She is alright, but there are hard losses in District 8.

There was no message about Natia.

I lay in bed that night with Peeta, both of us staring up at the ceiling of our room. Our chamber is slightly bigger than a single person one. My mother made us a quilt to decorate our bed with beautiful rich tones of orange and red. However, it still cannot help the cold sterility of the room.

"Say something."

I turn to my husband. "What is there to say?" I reply. "We were just talking to them, ten minutes prior to their deaths…I told them I was with them…" My throat suddenly thickens. …and Natia…"

"Come here." Peeta pulls me against him, his lips going to my hair. "I don't know what to say to make it better."

"There's nothing to say." I close my eyes, my lips against his skin. He shivers and I feel the frisson of pleasure at this. "We're alive and they aren't."

Sitting up, I shift and my chest presses into his. I can feel his heart beating rapidly under my own, his blue eyes bright even in the dimness in the room. My fingers go to his lips, tracing the arch of his upper one before thumbing his lower lip.

He lets out a shaky breath. "Should we be doing this?"

Being together like this has never been a problem for us. We did not have a wedding night, but easily found our way to one another just a few days after our propo wedding.

It had happened quickly and it did hurt when Peeta first pushed inside, but he was as gentle as he could be. Two thrusts-and he had finished inside me. Afterwards, being the accommodating lover that he was, Peeta was quick to bring his fingers to my clit and his mouth to a peaked nipple. I came just a quickly as he did.

Now, my mouth finds his and Peeta moans into our kiss. His hands move to my waist and he is guiding me atop him. My hand is already finding its way under the waistband of his pants and wrapping around his turgid cock.

I love the feel of him, velvet yet hard against my palm. I am fascinated by all of this and by Peeta, whenever he is in this state of arousal. Moving down, I shift to help him move his bottoms off his hips.

The moan at seeing him, full and hard in front of me, escapes my mouth without thought.

"We should be doing this." I get onto my knees and lean down until my mouth is right at the tip of him. My tongue swipes the head of his cock and Peeta cries out. His hand goes to my hair, fingers intertwining in my locks. "I _want_ to do this."

Inside my mouth, Peeta is all steel and sweat.

He hisses into the thick air as my tongue travels along every ridge of thick muscle.

"Yes…just like that…" He looks down to see me, cock in my mouth and our eyes lock. "Fuck Katniss…"

That dark look, that one that rarely crosses those beautiful eyes of his, are my own undoing.

In seconds, I am naked and sinking onto him with a loud cry.

"Oh…" His hands anchor my waist and Peeta thrusts roughly into my wetness. I ride him just as harshly, grinding my pelvis onto his, my breaths coming out in short, tight pants. "…harder…"

Peeta lifts me easily and I am flipped onto my back with him still inside me. He guides my thigh over his hip and begins to move once more.

"Fuck!" A hand grabs onto my pillow. My eyes close to savor this moment—to this feeling of being alive and filled with a pleasure beyond either of our understanding. "So good…"

Peeta presses his forehead to mind, raining kisses along my lips…my jaw…along the line of my neck…and down towards my chest. I clench in anticipation as his mouth works its way down to my breasts, aching for that moment when his lips find my nipples.

And when it happens, it's as if my whole body sighs in relief.

Peeta looks up at me, lips in the valley between my breasts. "I like seeing you like this."

My hand reaches to push sweaty locks from his flushed face. "Completely undone?"

"No…you just look like you…just Katniss Everdeen…Mellark," he replies into my skin. Peeta moves up my body, chests pressed together as he looks into my eyes. "When you're like this, I feel like you're really mine."

Something in his words tears at my heart.

"Look at me." I wrapped my legs around his waist. "I am yours." I thrust up and he swears under his breath at the sensation.

"Say it again," he demands, his hips starting to piston faster into me.

The pleasure and pain intermingle and I feel dizzy at the feeling of him losing control.

I want him to lose control.

"I am…" _Thrust._ "…yours…" _Thrust._ "…and you're…" _Thrust._ "…mine—"

White-hot stars blind my vision as I climax.

I lose myself in it this feeling, the events of everything that has happened today disappearing—even if just for a moment—as Peeta fills me with thick, hot come.

Then it all comes crashing down.

I am sobbing…I can't breathe in the violence of it.

Peeta is pulling out of me, sitting us up and gathering me in his warm embrace.

"Let it out…" His fingers weave into my drenched hair, massaging my scalp as he tries to calm me down. "My girl…my beautiful wife…my strong Katniss…"

He croons these words, rocking me back and forth until I fall into a dreamless sleep.

We have slept in this bed together always side by side, never touching.

This is the first night that I stay in his arms, my ear to where his heart beats.

It reassures me.

It makes me feel like I'm home.

* * *

A few days later, I am surprised to find myself joining Gale to visit Beetee in his lab. Since the wedding, he has avoided me, claiming that he was giving us newlyweds privacy.

It is almost foreign to be at his side, but I am happy to see him looking a little better than before.

"I've been working with Beetee on some weapons," he explains. "Since the District 8 hospital bombing, we have been trying to think of ways to retaliate, should we need to, especially during missions or your propos."

I nod, still feeling my chest tighten at the thought of Natia. There has been no word, but Peeta and I believe that she is probably gone.

It is all for the best; she is with her mother now.

Gale keys himself into the room and we walk inside the long room, approaching Beetee at one of the tables.

"Katniss!" Beetee wheels himself over easily to my side. "You look well. Marriage suits you."

I feel my face flush at his words. "Thanks." My eyes go around the room. "It looks like you've been busy."

"Yes!" His own face brightens as we go to the table closest to us. Beetee thrives in this lab, the chance to contribute keeping him busy to create whatever his heart desires—keeping it within whatever is needed for the rebellion, of course. He presents a sheath with arrows; they are divided in three sections and I fit it onto my back. "Right side, fire. Left side, explosive. Center, normal."

"Give it a try," Gale urges. He hands me a bow, steel colored and smooth. "Coin wanted something to match your Mockingjay suit."

We head over to a target range, set at the far end of the room, and I test out the new bow. It feels unbelievably comfortable in my grasp.

"I've created it to your specific measurements," Beetee informs me proudly and I raise a brow at him. "Your mother had them for your wedding gown."

"Interesting." I raise my bow and remembering Beetee's words, I go for the right. Aiming for the target, I take a breath before releasing the arrow.

It's a perfect shot and as the bow meets its target there is a burst of flame.

"You haven't lost it," Gale remarks.

"Did you think I would?" I counter.

He doesn't respond and so I continue to look around the room.

Beetee follows, explaining each gadget or weapon. The man truly is a brilliant mind.

I stop when I see small parachutes, similar to the ones that gave us sponsors' gifts during the Games.

"These we created together," Gale tells me.

"What do they do?" I ask.

"Timed explosives," Beetee informs me. "There is an initial explosion followed by a second one, half-a-minute later."

I nod, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of stomach staring at the little silver pods.

* * *

"We don't have to leave this hovercraft," I tell Peeta.

"You know that Coin won't have that," my husband replies tersely.

Cressida and her team watch our interaction, with Pollux signing to Castor. I didn't realize until after our visit to District 8 that the two were brothers. Nor did I realize that Pollux was an avox until Peeta asked Messalla about learning to sign so he could communicate with the man.

Coin knows exactly what she is doing.

We are landing in District 12, much to our reluctance. Nothing good can come out of this.

To add a little more drama, Gale is told to go along with us. He sits at the far end, closest to the exit.

I feel the hovercraft begin its descent and as we get closer, the more agitated Peeta gets. He shifts in his seat, his hands tap at the tops of his thighs, and his breathing seems to get a little tighter.

I kiss his knuckles gently before sandwiching his hand between my own. "We're here together."

Peeta manages to smile, covering my hand with his. "I know."

From the corner of my eye, I see Pollux sign to his brother.

"What is he saying?" I ask curiously.

Castor looks between Peeta and me. "He thinks it is nice that you take such good care of one another."

"She's all I have," Peeta tells them. "I will do anything to keep her safe…and sane."

I chuckle, smiling at the brothers. "And he's had to talk me down many times."

The hovercraft lands on rough ground and I hold my breath as we wait for the back to open.

"I just have to warn you two," Gale suddenly says, his eyes on Peeta and myself. "A lot of District 12 is unrecognizable—except for Victors' Village. Your homes were spared."

I meet Peeta's eyes as we stand, knowing we share the same thought.

Victors' Village was never our home.

It was where Snow could keep his eyes on us.

"Well, let's get on with this," I finally say.

Shakily, I walk down the platform and onto what is left of District 12. The sun is out today, the sky cloudless, and the breeze cool. However, it matters very little seeing the destruction in front of us. I can still see the haze of leftover ash from the fire that burned our little town to the ground.

"Most of the Seam is gone as a lot of the houses were nothing but wood," Gale informs everyone, his voice rough. "A lot of the town is burnt out with the exception of some of the brick buildings—"

At those words, Peeta is marching away and I follow hurriedly. The team does as well but at a normal pace since they have no idea where he could possibly be going.

But, I know.

The Mellark Bakery was made of brick to manage the heat and humidity for the baked goods. Peeta told me this during the Victory Tour, remarking that his home in Victors' Village lacked that same warmth and smell of baked bread. I told him that I thought he just missed his real home.

As we head into the main part of what was District 12, I hold in my own shock at seeing what was once so familiar now burnt out hovels. I try not to look up to where the Mayor's House stood—Madge Undersee, the mayor's own daughter, did not get out alive.

I realize that Peeta has stopped in front of a crumbled brick building. The roof has caved in, the fire too strong for the wooden beams that protected this building and the people in it. The glass of the windows have shattered onto the street in front of us—too much heat pressure—and I bite back a small sob remembering how beautiful Peeta's cakes looked in front of those very windows.

The footsteps behind tell me that the rest of the team has arrived.

Peeta remains unmoved, staring up at the place he grew up in, and I think of the family…our family that once lived inside. Mr. Mellark was a kind man, much like his youngest boy. Mrs. Mellark, not as nice, but she supported her family in the best way I guess she could. I barely remember Peeta's brothers, but I remember my husband telling me that they were supportive and kind.

"Where are we?" Cressida asks, breaking the silence.

"We're in front of the Mellark Bakery," Peeta tells her, his voice emotionless. "I grew up here. I took my first steps, according to my father, right here." He points to the broken-in porch. "My cakes were displayed in these windows."

"In the back of this bakery," I continue Peeta's narrative. "Peeta saved my life. My mother was still recovering from my father's death and Prim was starving. I searched my shelves for food that day and found them empty, so I walked out to search for something…anything, really."

I close my eyes, losing myself in the memories of the boy with the bread.

"I found myself in the back of this bakery, thinking I was going to starve to death. Peeta found me…he was going to feed burnt bread to the animals they kept in the back—instead he gave the bread to me. The next day, he had a black eye and I knew it was because of me…his mother's punishment for wasting food on a girl who was nothing but a Seam brat—"

Peeta walks into the open archway to go inside.

I turn seeing that Cressida is signaling Castor and Pollux to follow.

"Don't you dare go in!" I warn, walking back into the archway with my eyes trained on them.

Cressida shakes her head at me. "Katniss—"

"No, I won't let you have this part of him…of us," I reply. "Coin has taken so much already."

The woman relents as do the cameramen.

Gale nods at me to follow Peeta and I turn quickly to enter the remains of the bakery.

Inside, the front where the counter stood is blackened from the heat of the fire; the walls are inky smoke and I can smell the char. Walking towards the lone open doorway, I squint when I am engulfed in the sunlight but find Peeta in front of a single brick oven amongst the rubble, staring into the dark space of its opening.

When I am next to him, he begins to speak, his eyes still looking into that darkness.

"I remember baking my first loaf. My father taught me," he says, his voice robotic. "I was just barely tall enough to reach this opening and he just lifted me so easily so that I could place my loaf in—" Peeta lets out an empty laugh into the thick air. "And he said…" His voice warbles. "…he said that one day I would be teaching my children how bake their first loaves in this very kitchen—"

Peeta suddenly reaches to the ground, pulling up a metal sheet and slamming it hard against the oven. The force of the hit causes him to stumble forward, but that doesn't stop his rage. He reaches blindly for anything…rocks…wood…utensils that once hung inside the bakery…

I am sure somewhere that Cressida and her team can hear this.

And I…I have never felt so powerless.

There are things we have control over, like my control with a bow and an arrow. Or, how Peeta had such steady control of his hands whenever he decorated those cakes for the bakery's windows.

You can't control death.

It just takes and takes.

I don't how much time has passed when Peeta runs out of things to throw. He is suddenly on his hands and knees, breathing raggedly as the adrenaline rushes through him. I approach carefully, ready to help him up if he needs it.

However, Peeta slowly gets to his knees…then onto his feet. He approaches the brick oven once more—then simply places a hand against it and bows his head.

His face is covered in ash, but I can see the streaks of tears before they hit the ground.

My arms go around his waist as my head goes to his shoulder, turning it away to look out onto what is left.

I already know that he doesn't want me to see him cry.

* * *

We walk away wordlessly from the team when we return to District 13.

Let Gale make the report to Coin since they are so chummy as of late.

I guide Peeta towards our chambers, ignoring those who greet us. My husband remains in a comatose state, completely silent as the hovercraft took us out of the graveyard that was District 12. No one asked what happened, the sounds of his rage from the ruined bakery enough for them.

A final turn finds us at our door and I key us in, dragging Peeta along.

Once inside, I get on my knees and help him out of his combat boots before taking mine off. Peeta follows, his eyes blank and his motions listless.

Wordlessly, I lead him into the private bathroom—a luxury here in District 13—and begin to help him undress. He helps eventually, lifting his arm when I need to remove a sleeve or take off another layer. His feet easily step out of his pants and his underwear after I've pulled them down to his ankles.

He stands naked in front of me as I run the shower. When it is ready, Peeta doesn't protest as I urge him in.

For a moment, Peeta remains unmoved, letting the water wash away the ash and dust of our visit. I watch him from where I rest against the sink counter, observing the water rush along the strong planes of his body. His skin glistens, highlighting every contour and I am breathless watching each little rivulet travel through him.

He is a beautiful man—inside and out.

I make quick work of my clothes and join him.

Peeta remains silent as I reach from behind to embrace him. My head goes to his back and I entwine our fingers. His grip is harsh, but I understand that there is still so much pain inside of that broken heart of his.

I realize how much I want to mend it.

My mouth goes to his shoulders, pressing kisses from one end to the other. I feel him relax in the motion, his grip on my hands softening as I continue my small caresses against his body. My hands go to his forearms, moving my palms back and forth to bring life to his limbs. He shivers and I continue on, bringing my mouth to his neck, nipping at his skin just enough for a moan to escape his mouth.

I feel a rush in his response, though I have very little time to react when Peeta suddenly turns to me.

The look in his eyes is desperate; he wants me to save him. Save him before he falls into the darkness of his mind…before he can become another victim…before hope is gone…

He lifts me against the cool tile of the wall, filling me in one easy stroke.

I cry out at the goodness of it all.

We stare at one another as he takes me over…and over...and deeper as my legs wrap around his back, my heels digging into the small of his back.

My hands are in his hair, tips of my fingers massaging the furrow of his brow away.

"That's it…" I kiss every inch of his face, my mouth finding home in his lips. "My beautiful boy…my strong man—" I hiss as he thrusts erratically inside of me. "…my husband…I lo—"

We come together, my own orgasm ripping through my body and I scream out his name, my own being called over and over from his lips.

When it is over, we slide to the shower floor, my back still to the wall and his head against my chest as I rock us back and forth.

"Katniss," he cries against my skin. "We can't do this anymore…we can't be piece in their game—either of theirs."

"I know, sweetheart." My words are kissed into his hair. "We're going to figure this out—together."

And, just like that, I am in love with Peeta Mellark.

* * *

It doesn't take very long for Coin to send us away again. This time, we are to shoot another propo with Commander Paylor on the outskirts of the Capitol. It is a dangerous mission and neither I nor Peeta know the outcome.

This war has to end.

It started with us, and now it must end with us.

"When do we leave?" I ask her.

Coin looks surprised by my enthusiasm. "Tomorrow, if you are both ready."

Peeta looks her straight in the eyes, a hardness in them that I have never seen.

"We have been ready," he simply says.

Underneath the table, our fingers intertwine.

* * *

In my seat on our hovercraft, I look around at the team that has assembled. Cressida is discussing the angles that she would like to capture with Messalla as he scribbles it on his pad. Castor and Pollux sign to one another, identical smiles on their faces.

Pollux realizes that I am staring at them because he suddenly signs, ' _Are you alright?_ '

To his surprise, I sign in reply, ' _Yes, just a little tired_.'

He looks pleased, turning back to his brother with a grin on his face.

Towards the front of the hovercraft, Commander Boggs is looking over our plans, a folder set out in front of him. He doesn't look pleased at all, his mouth in a tight line, and I have to wonder if he is beginning to distrust our fair leader.

His eyes go to mine and I nod neutrally. I will just have to wait and observe for any cracks in his usually stoic façade along the way.

Then there is Gale, once again here at the request of Coin. I have no idea when he became her lapdog, nor do I care. My only concern is whether or not he is watching Peeta and me, trying to find out our plans.

I never had to pretend to be his friend; it is sad that I'll have to from now on.

Finally, my hand in Peeta's, I turn to him. He gives me a smile and my hand reaches to the roughness of his chin as I shift in my seat, feeling the burn in my inner thighs.

He really needs to shave—especially if he is going to keeping waking me up the same way he did this morning.

"Hey," I suddenly call out to him. "…I love you."

He blinks, disbelief at my words, before his mouth splits into a smile that I had thought was long gone.

A smile full of hope, full of tomorrows.

My hand goes to my stomach…I can't tell him now…even though I am sure—

I can only hope that our child has that very same smile.

 **FIN.**

And everything that happens with Squad 451 comes after this…more or less. I know Finnick isn't in the squad, but well…I don't want to kill him off in this version.

If you've made it this far, congrats. This is a play on the plot of Mockingjay and all recognizable quotes are all, of course, written by Suzanne Collins.

The title is a lyric from "Morning is Made".

Also, if you're interested, here is a little playlist for certain moments in the story:

"Morning is Made"-Hush Kids (During Peeta's proposal)

"Somebody Loved"-The Weepies (For their wedding dance)

"The Funeral"-Band of Horses (When Peeta is at the remains of the Mellark Bakery…and the shower scene)

I really enjoyed this…kinda want to write more. Thoughts?

Thanks again for reading!

-LaLa


	4. You

Here we go!

This comes from a Tumblr anon who requested 'divorced Everlark finding out they're having an accidental baby'. Hope you enjoy, anon—and, as always, prompts are always welcome via any communication.

 _Summary: A baby was all that they had wanted—just not after the divorce. Modern AU._

You

Katniss sat on the edge of the tub, the rush of water behind her suddenly muffled as she stared at the result window of the plastic stick in her hand.

 _Pregnant._

The word stood stark and bold…and final.

Of course, it was final.

Katniss had been in perpetual denial for the two weeks as her usually like-clockwork period never came. It was final when she had suddenly felt faint during the monthly meeting with her design team last week.

It was final when Prim, her sister, had suggested it during their daily phone call—before her niece, Lily, took a tumble and they had been disconnected abruptly.

It was final when Peeta asked her to dance— _damn him_ —because it had been their song.

And, it was final because, against her better judgement, she had said yes.

* * *

 _Three Months Ago…_

"I feel sick…"

Annie, one of Katniss' best friends, was currently sitting on her bed, wedding dress on, with her head in-between her legs.

"Of course you feel sick. You're marrying Finnick Odair," Johanna, Katniss' former roommate, replied with a smirk. She lounged in the nook of Annie's old bedroom with an open bottle of champagne. The skirt of her blush bridesmaid gown was unabashedly bunched so she could fit into the tiny space. "And, you're remembering that he pierced his nipples in front of the whole campus."

Annie snorted as she straightened herself.

"No, those actually worked in our favor. Face to face sex was much more…stimulating."

"That was more than I needed to know about the groom," Katniss said as she emerged from Annie's private bathroom to hand her a glass of water. "Do you need something to eat? Or drink?" She looked to Johanna, who was chugging the last of the bottle in her grasp. "Nevermind."

"No." Annie took a breath and gave Katniss a smile. "Were you scared before you married Peeta?"

Katniss thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, I wasn't. I was sure." She mustered a weak smile at Annie. "Maybe that was a sign."

"Do you regret marrying him?" Annie asked quietly.

Again, Katniss shook her head. "Not one bit. It taught me a lot and I was better for it." She helped Annie stand up and adjusted the veil on her friend's silky, dark mane. "But you and Finnick are different. Don't base your fears on what was a weak marriage. You two built a strong relationship and your marriage will be better because of that."

Her friend swiped at her eyes. "Thanks, Katniss."

"Why don't you do a quick makeup check before we head to the club?" Katniss suggested. Annie and Finnick's lavish wedding was at the seaside country club her parents were notable members of. "I'll let your Dad know that you're ready."

With a quick nod, Annie rushed into the bathroom.

"Are you okay?"

Katniss turned to Johanna, who was suddenly sober. "Of course, I am."

"You're okay even if Peeta is Best Man," her blunt friend countered. "And, you're Maid of Honor at a wedding of the two friends who you and Peeta set up?"

"We've been divorced for almost six years," Katniss replied simply. "The ink on the paper has already dried…and Peeta remarried."

Johanna stood up, struggling to put her heels on. "Didn't you hear?"

Katniss shook her head, barely listening as she gathered her emergency bag for Annie—tissues, a Tide pen for stains, a small sewing kit, extra tights…

"They separated."

She stilled at Johanna's announcement. Peeta's marriage to Delly Cartwright had hit her in the gut two years ago—and Johanna was the one to hold her as she cried herself into a stupor.

"Katniss—"

"I'm alright," she interrupted. Johanna raised a brow and Katniss relented. She could never hide anything from the penetrating stare of Johanna Mason. "I have to be."

Johanna gathered Katniss into her arms. "Peeta was a damn fool for letting you go."

* * *

The wedding had been perfect. It was a fast ride in the Cresta's limousine and a relatively quick walk down a rose petal aisle to get Annie Cresta to become Annie Odair.

The new bride and her husband were currently doing the Macarena with their guests on the dance floor. Somewhere, Johanna was hooking up with Finnick's cousin who had come all the way from London to be a groomsman.

Poor Marvel, he never saw Johanna coming.

At least someone would be coming—besides the bride and groom.

"Is this seat taken?"

Katniss looked up as Peeta pulled out the seat beside her and sat down.

"What if the seat had been taken?" she responded.

"Well, he or she is not here," Peeta said easily. "So for now, I'll just keep their seat warm."

Katniss nodded, her eyes returning to the dance floor where Finnick was attempting to do the robot to Debbie Deb's "Look Out Weekend". She hid her laugh by reaching for her wine glass and taking a long sip.

"No rhythm whatsoever." Peeta chuckled and Katniss could only nod in agreement. "At least Annie is doing a better job." They watched the bride easily maneuver her body to the song.

"Annie used to dance on bar countertops for tips," she told Peeta.

"How very 'Coyote Ugly' of her," he replied as their eyes met. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." Katniss swallowed down the trickle of nervousness that always came whenever she was around Peeta. When they had first locked eyes on their college campus, it was like nothing she had ever felt and Katniss both hated and loved that feeling of raw attraction. Presently, Katniss hated the thought that the same feeling still rose from somewhere within her in his presence. "And yourself? How's…Melly?"

Peeta snorted. "You know damn well her name is Delly." His gaze wandered to where the newlyweds were locked in a slow embrace on the dance floor. "Did you want to take a walk?"

The reception was in a white silk tent in the adjoining hotel of the country club. The ceremony happened at sunset and during the vows, the room was filled with a gorgeous orange glow; the kind of orange that had been Peeta's favorite color—or at least, it had been when they were together.

Katniss didn't know why the thought had come unbidden in her mind.

And, she didn't know why she turned to him and said, "Yes."

Peeta beamed at her acceptance, that boyish grin always making her feel like she was the only person in the room.

And, her stomach swam in pleasure once again.

* * *

"Lily is five now." Katniss smiled to herself, thinking of her rambunctious golden-haired niece. "She's so excited to start kindergarten. Last night, she called me up to tell me all about her school supplies."

Peeta laughed. "Sounds like a certain woman I know; she used to get off on new textbooks and yellow highlighters." Katniss chuckled, remembering her overzealousness during her college days. She was practically the Hermione Granger of Panem University. "I remember that Prim was not a school person. And neither was Cato." He met her eyes. "Cato is a friend on Facebook. Once in a while, he posts a picture of his beautiful family."

"Oh. I didn't know that you two were close," Katniss mumbled. Thank goodness it was just dark enough to hide her warm cheeks.

"We were in-laws at one point," he quipped.

"And how is the firm?" she asked to fill the awkwardness.

"The same as always." They were closer to the edge of water, a good distance away from the reception now. "I'm less in the courtroom though and more into reviewing contracts."

"Sounds…boring."

They both laughed at her words and in their moonlit walk, Katniss could see the brightness of his smile.

"Yes, it is," he admitted. "Delly was more into the courtroom drama, really. I'm not quite sure if this kind of law is what I want to do. I think that was the deciding factor for our separating—we wanted different things."

Katniss stopped and turned to him "So, it's true then? You and Delly have separated?"

Peeta shook his head with a wry smile. "Rumors travel fast in our circle of friends." He met her eyes. "We're not separated—we're divorced. It's been final for about six months now."

Her hand reached to give his own a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

Peeta entwined their fingers, pulling her close enough to feel her chest just brush against his.

A rush of heat traveled throught her body and she suddenly felt overwhelmingly flushed despite the coolness of the night and the sea breeze.

"Are you really sorry?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I didn't really know her," she told him. "I am sorry that it didn't work out between you. You seemed…compatible."

Peeta's other hand now rested along her waist, causing sparks to travel along her skin.

"You know I was never really over you, right?" He reached to brush an errant hair off her eyes. "And I think Delly always knew that. I mean, who could ever compete with Katniss Everdeen when it came down to it?"

"Don't say things like that." Her words came out tight and her center ached.

Peeta opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a familiar tune wafted through from the tent.

"Dance with me," he said.

Katniss stepped back. "Why?"

Peeta was already taking her hand and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Because this is our song."

" _I see a love I've always known_

 _From another time_

 _That once again is mine,_

 _I need to know_

 _are you real?_ "

They were already moving along to the music before Katniss could accept. She closed her eyes, listening to him sing into her ear the lyrics that were all-too-familiar. It was a popular song during their college years and the one that they had first kissed to.

"I waited all my life…to be where we are…" Peeta crooned, slightly off key, which she always seemed to adore. "With you here in my arms…I can't believe how you shine…"

Katniss lifted her head from his chest, her eyes meeting his, and she reached, cupping his cheek.

Leaning forward, she brushed her mouth along his and felt him tremble at the soft promise of more.

"Are you staying here?" Her lips travelled along his chin until she reached just behind his ear.

"Yes," Peeta replied and he hissed as she nipped that little space of skin that always brought him to his knees. "Oh shit…" A shaky laugh escaped his lips. "You remember."

"Of course I do." Katniss nodded towards the tent. "We better get back."

Peeta looked at her. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. You're the Best Man and I'm Maid of Honor," she told him simply. Her hand went to his pants pocket, slipping her spare key card into it. "Room 12. I'll see you after your speech is over."

* * *

Opening the window, Katniss let the salty air fill her senses as her eyes closed to take it all in.

"You always loved the ocean." His lips were already on her neck, sucking…nipping…and she gasped in the deliciousness of it all. "I remember waking up during our honeymoon to see you just like this…"

Peeta slid the zipper of Katniss' dress down her back and she stepped out of it easily as he peppered kisses along her shoulders, his hands reaching to unclasp her bra so he could fill his hands with her breasts.

"And, I just remember thinking how lucky I was." He thumbed her nipples, sending shockwaves to her pussy before falling to his knees, his mouth along her spine. "How did I ever manage to get Katniss Everdeen to fall in love with me?"

Peeta tugged at her panties—scraps of fabric, really—before his hands grasped at her hips and he pressed a reverent kiss to each of her bottom cheeks.

That had been it for her.

He didn't stand a chance as Katniss straddled his lap, sinking into him in a single harsh thrust.

"Katniss!" Peeta moaned into her ear as she began to fuck him in earnest. "Oh God…feels so…yes…" Her arms moved around his neck, her knees digging into the carpet as she grinded her hips harshly into his. That burning pleasure as his cock hit her deep seemed to egg her on towards the climax that she desperately needed and Katniss began to thrust harder into him. "Fuck…fuck…FUCK!"

She was pretty sure that everyone in the hotel and even outside their window could hear Peeta—and Katniss couldn't care less.

Her pussy craved his moans…his cries—and it rewarded her with the sharpest climax that Katniss ever had.

"Peeta!" Her hands scratched at his back as she came all over him.

Her whole body went boneless against him and Peeta's rugged chuckle brushed against her ear.

"I'm not done with you, sweetheart…" Katniss was suddenly on her back, one leg against his shoulder and the other wrapped around his hip. Peeta leaned down and kissed her roughly, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste champagne and wedding cake. He moved inside her and her nerves, still raw from her orgasm, caused a hiss to escape her lips. "One more Katniss…just come once more for me…"

"I don't know if I can…" she breathed out.

Peeta pressed his forehead to hers, his blue eyes dark as midnight, as he gazed into her eyes.

"Yes, you can." His fingers went to her clit, using the remnants of her climax on the hood and he began to move along the bundle of nerves. "There is nothing that you can't do, Katniss…that's what I love about you…" He pressed harshly and she shrieked feeling her impending release as he pistoned harder. "Your determination to always…get…what…you…want!"

Peeta let out a shout as he came and the feeling of him filling her, warm and wet, had her second orgasm crashing into her without her realizing it.

Later, as they laid in her bed sated and satisfied, Peeta pulled her close. "Stay."

Katniss pressed herself closer to him, kissing his forearm, before replying, "Okay."

* * *

But, she didn't stay.

In the cold, harsh reality of morning, Katniss found herself sneaking out of bed, throwing on her dress, and rushing out to the Uber that she had ordered. It had been a wonderful night for them but Katniss knew what came after…the inevitable arguments, harsh words, and the reminders of painful betrayals.

Now, here she was—sitting in her bathroom wondering which one of those magnificent fucks had gotten her knocked up by her ex.

There was a knock at the door. "Katniss?"

It was Prim. Katniss had forgotten that she had called her sister in a fit of panic this morning.

"Come in."

The door creaked open and her sister slipped inside. Prim had always been svelte, even after Lily had been born. She could only imagine how she would look, especially since she was all hips.

Prim reached to turn off the water before reaching for the test in Katniss' hand.

After placing the test on the counter, Prim joined her at the edge of the tub. "So, Peeta…"

"Yeah…" Katniss looked to her sister, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. "Five years, Prim…we tried for that long to have a baby—and nothing. Now this…" She wiped her eyes. "This wasn't the way this was supposed to go."

"Welcome to motherhood, Katniss," Prim replied sagely. "Nothing will ever go the way it's supposed to go."

Katniss and Peeta had married right out of college, desperately in-love and ready to start their lives together. It was a small wedding in her family's Connecticut home. Prim, Johanna, and Annie had been her bridesmaids while Finnick, Thresh, Peeta's roommate, and Peeta's childhood friend, Gale, had been the groomsmen. She wore her mother's wedding gown and her father had walked her down the aisle.

It was perfect.

That first year, they tried for a baby, eager to start their family. When it didn't happen the first year, they weren't worried. It wasn't meant to be as her husband frequently said. They spent the next year and the one after that working on their careers; Peeta got an internship with Haymitch Abernathy, Manhattan's most ruthless lawyer while she was working as an assistant for Effie Trinket, a mogul in the interior design industry.

During that time, they got a small apartment in Brooklyn. She decorated it with hanging plants and pale greens to give the white-walled apartment some life. They ate dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant just a block away and made love with the windows open in the summer.

The fourth year was a particularly hard year. Despite both being in good reproductive health and trying frequently, they were not yet pregnant. Dr. Latier, her OB/GYN told her to be patient and not to stress. It was difficult not to since both of them had been promoted. They had found the perfect home, they just needed a baby to make it all complete.

The fifth year, she miscarried.

It had been a glorious three weeks. They cried when they saw the positive sign on her test. Peeta had already predicted that they would have a girl with her dark eyes and she was always tired, but happy.

Then, it all came crashing down in one horribly painful cramp that sent her to the ER.

Dr. Latier had assured them that they could try again.

Katniss had been ready; she had waited the few months that her body needed to heal and she had tracked her ovulation, taken her basal temperature, and started on a regiment of vitamins to help.

Peeta was not ready; he was tired and the miscarriage had been painful for both of them. He didn't know if he wanted to go through it again.

The fight they had was epic; she called him selfish and he called her reckless. The neighbors banged against their walls to tell them to quiet down—and Katniss had told him to get out.

That night, she had fallen asleep, tears on her pillow and when she woke up—Peeta wasn't there.

When Katniss called his cell phone, a woman had answered, her voice hoarse from what could only be an encounter with her husband.

She moved out that day.

"Are you going to tell him?" Prim asked, pulling her out of her solemn reverie.

"I don't know," she said. "I can barely see straight at the moment."

"Well, what about you going to the doctor?" her sister suggested. "Let's confirm that this is real."

Katniss nodded, letting Prim pull her up from her seat and lead her out of the bathroom.

However, she already knew that it was real…she felt inside her that _she_ was real.

Peeta would be getting his daughter.

* * *

"Headaches…seizures…any other disorders?"

Katniss shook head. "Nope, just bad decisions when it comes to exes."

Johanna chuckled as she checked off the appropriate boxes on the health form before putting the clipboard down on the table next to her. "I think we're about finished with this…"

Prim called to get the earliest appointment she could with Dr. Latier. Unfortunately, the closest available time was the end of Lily's school day so her sister had recruited Johanna, who had almost fallen off her chair at the news, to come along with Katniss.

Her friend squeezed her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Scared…mostly pregnant—and yourself?"

Johanna snorted. "Now there's that caustic wit that I've grown to love and tolerate." They shared a small laugh, breaking the nervous tension in the exam room. "It will be okay, Katniss. But you should tell him."

"Let's just confirm it first," she replied.

"It's already confirmed." They turned to see Dr. Latier entering the room. He gave her a bright smile. "Congratulations, Katniss. Your blood panel confirms that you are indeed pregnant." Reaching for a nearby stool, he sat down next to her exam table. "How are we feeling about this?"

"Overwhelmed," she admitted. "You know how long we…I had wanted this."

Dr. Latier nodded in understanding. "I know and you've come a long way, but I have complete and utter faith that you will have a successful pregnancy." He stood up, going to the ultrasound cart and pulling it towards her. "Why don't you lay back and we can just take some measurements? Your friend can move over to where your head is and get a good view as well."

Johanna shuffled as she laid back, her admiring gaze on the man in front of them.

"Why didn't you tell me that your OB/GYN is such a fox?"

"Maybe because that was the last thing on my mind," Katniss retorted with a laugh.

Dr. Latier set up the machine before lifting the covering from her stomach. "From what I've read in my notes, you should already be ending your first trimester so we'll be using the camera on your abdomen."

"Do you think it will be hard to find the baby at this point, Doctor?" Johanna asked suddenly.

The doctor's eyes remain on the screen before he spread the moving gel on the camera and pressed it to Katniss' stomach.

"I believe…" Dr. Latier adjusted the camera and turned his wrist. "We will have no trouble at all…"

The screen in front of them revealed the unmistakable shape of her baby. Katniss watched in amazement as the baby moved around, limbs flailing, as a rapid heartbeat suddenly echoed into the room.

"Holy shit…" Johanna breathed in amazement. She looked down at Katniss, her eyes wet. "You're a mother."

"We're looking at a perfect fourteen-week fetus," her doctor informed her. "Let me just print out these photos for you as I continue taking measurements."

"So what are you going to do?" her friend suddenly asked. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Of course," Katniss said. "He is the father."

"I suggest you bring the father for the next appointment," Dr. Latier said as he handed her the strand of photos. "The baby will be bigger, the exam will be more extensive, and I think I would like to know the new man in your life."

"No need, Doctor—it's Peeta's," she informed the man.

She had to give it to Dr. Latier—he tried to look minimally shocked at the thought of her having her ex-husband's baby.

* * *

Peeta looked at the file in front of him blankly, the words blurring as he drifted off into his own thoughts.

That morning, he had received a rather cryptic text from Cato telling him that he should get in contact with Katniss.

His chest clenched thinking of his ex-wife—even after all these years, Peeta still felt breathless at the sight of her. Seeing her at Annie and Finnick's wedding, especially beautiful in her blush gown, only solidified the harsh reality of his situation.

Peeta was still in love with his ex-wife.

Truthfully, he had never stopped loving Katniss, even after his eventual marriage to Delly. It had been harsh when Delly had come to that conclusion and she had been kind about it despite the painful realization that her husband would never be as in love with her as he was with his first wife.

His thoughts were interrupted by the knock at his doorway where Haymitch, his boss, stood.

"You got a minute?"

"Sure." Haymitch sat in front of his desk, resting back and pulling out a flask from inside his suit jacket. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really," his boss replied. "I just needed to get out of my office. My assistants are all gossiping about some reality show." Haymitch took a swig from his flask. "What's up with you?"

"I got this text from Cato telling me that I should contact Katniss," he explained. "It's been a few weeks…and I can't get her out of my mind. Should I call her?"

"Let's stop bullshitting, Peeta. You were never over Katniss—" There was another deep gulp. "You sleeping with her at that wedding didn't really help things. Did you really think that you exorcist her out of you with your dick? Doesn't work like that, young buck."

"That was not my intention," Peeta retorted. "We've always had this pull to one another. That's not something that you just stop feeling."

There was a cough and they looked to see that Posy, his assistant and his friend Gale's little sister, was at the doorway.

"Hey Peeta…Mr. Abernathy…" Posy greeted them as she walked into the room. "Katniss is here to see you."

His stomach flipped hearing her name, but he calmly nodded at his assistant. "Of course. Bring her in."

Posy nodded and then grinned.

"By the way, Gale said she was a looker, but he never talked about the long legs and the hair…"

Peeta quirked a brow. "The hair?"

"Her hair is the kind of hair that you want to bury your face in…or wake up to a mouthful of after a busy night—" Posy stopped abruptly, cheeks scarlet. "I really need a girlfriend…anyway, I'll let her know to come in."

His assistant disappeared quickly and Haymitch guffawed. "Now I have to see her."

It didn't take very long for Katniss to appear—and she was a sight.

His ex had obviously just left her office, for she was wearing a perfectly-tailored blazer and a matching pencil skirt that displayed her long legs succinctly. Her hair was down in graceful waves and, as she walked into the room, her dark locks danced against her pretty face.

There was something else…Katniss almost _glowed_.

"Well, shit—you grew up well!" Haymitch bellowed as he stood up. "You're looking a lot better than Peeta over here."

Katniss grinned at his boss. "It's nice to see you again, Haymitch. I see you haven't changed one bit."

"I grow better with age—like wine," he quipped. "Speaking of fine wine, how's that partner of yours?"

"Effie is doing well," she told him politely. "Give her a call one of these days, I'm sure she'll entertain you."

Haymitch guffawed. "I might just do that." He headed to the door, drawing Katniss in for a hug. "Nice to see you in the office again, sweetheart." His boss gave him a nod. "I'll leave you to talk."

When Peeta was sure that Haymitch was gone, he turned his attention to Katniss.

"I wasn't expecting to ever hear from you," Peeta started. "I mean…you didn't…stay."

"I just didn't want to deal with the aftermath…" Katniss fidgeted. "I was never good with…after."

He sighed at her admittance; it was very Katniss—blunt, but well-intentioned.

"So, how can I help you?"

Peeta offered her seat in front of his desk before pulling his own so he could sit next to her.

"I wanted to show you something."

Katniss hesitatingly reached into the purse that rested on her lap. She pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to him.

Peeta reached, turning what he realized was photo paper and staring in disbelief at the sight before him.

The delicate nose…the pearly spine…and a perfectly form hand…Katniss' name clearly typed in the upper left corner…

"She's measuring at around fourteen weeks as of two days ago when I visited Dr. Latier," Katniss explained quickly. "He told me that you should come along next time. The scan is much more comprehensive in the second trimester."

His mouth felt gummy. "She?"

"I don't actually know if it's a girl," she told him. "I guess it's just wishful thinking…I know you always wanted a little girl."

The pieces in his brain were finally connecting…fourteen weeks—that was definitely during Annie and Finnick's wedding…they didn't use protection…they had such difficulty getting pregnant before, so it didn't seem like that would've been an issue…

They were both stupidly wrong.

Peeta shot up from his seat. "She is…mine?"

"Ours." Katniss stood taking a slow, deep breath before meeting his eyes. "She is _ours_."

* * *

"I'm going to be a father." Peeta looked flabbergasted as he met her tense gaze. "We tried for so long."

Katniss' eyes welled as past memories suddenly rose from deep within.

"I know." She sniffled. "I don't know where we go from here."

"Hey now." Peeta gathered her against him. "We're going to be okay. Yes, this is unconventional, but that's parenthood. We just have to make our own set of rules."

She laughed wetly against his chest. "That's what Prim told me…that motherhood is having nothing ever going as planned."

"I bet that sucked for you to hear," he replied softly. "You were always a planner."

She nodded, pulling away from his chest. "What now?"

"How about we talk about this over dinner?" Peeta suggested. "Do you have any preferences?"

"I've haven't been much of an eater…the whole morning sickness theory is kind of bullshit." Katniss smiled wryly. "It's more like I just feel sick all the time…since I confirmed it, anyway."

"I'll figure something out," he told her. "Or, I can cook."

"You don't cook, you bake."

His parents owned a bakery that had been in business since before he was even born. His brother, Cory, ran it now with his wife Finch. So, her ex was extremely good at baked goods but was never very skilled at the stovetop.

"I'll pick something up then." Peeta beamed at her. "I guess that cooking is one of the things we'll have to learn for her."

Her stomach flipped seeing that smile; it brought her back to the happier moments of their marriage.

So, instead of replying, Katniss just nodded as she stepped away from him.

"I'll see you later then."

Peeta's eyes went to the sonogram photo on his desk. "Can I keep this?"

"Of course, there are more at my place."

He nodded, placing it reverently by his computer screen.

Katniss gave him a nod, turning to leave before she did something stupid.

Like cry.

Or kiss him.

* * *

When Peeta pulled up into her driveway, he bit back his surprise seeing her home. He remembered them seeing the house in the Sunday paper, imagining how she would decorate it and how the nursery would look for when the time came.

Then, he had gone and fucked it all up.

Stepping out, Peeta went to the front door, admiring the white picket fence and freshly mowed lawn.

He knocked, waiting expectantly and looking around the quiet neighborhood, when she answered the door.

Katniss was breathtaking. She stood before him in a soft rose sweater, her dark hair in the same long braid she wore in college, and a pair of fitted leggings. His ex-wife never knew the effect she had on him, from the moment they met to this very moment—she still made him come undone.

"Hi." Peeta held up the paper bag in his grasp. "I brought Italian—from our place."

She grinned as she held out the door for him. "I didn't know that they were still open." He walked into the warm peach entry way. "Welcome to my home."

"I can't believe that you got this place," he remarked, taking off his jacket. Katniss reached for it, placing it on a coat hook by the door. "I can definitely see your influence in it."

The aesthetics were mostly white wood, restored pieces, and greenery used as accents; it was all warm and inviting…and Katniss.

"Yeah, our divorce settlement was more than fair," she told him and led him into the living room. "Have a seat."

The couch was a beige sectional, littered with plush cream pillows. The long part ran next to the fireplace; he could imagine her sitting there with a cup of chamomile tea like she used to do in their apartment.

Peeta took a seat, gazing around his surroundings. "This is a great place. You really made it yours."

"It won't be just mine soon enough." Katniss sat next to him and presented him with a stack. "These are more of the sonogram photos. I have an appointment in four weeks and it would be great if you could be there."

"Of course, I'll have Posy clear the day," he replied. "Also, I told Haymitch…he finds it hilarious that I'm going to be a father. However, he's very confident in you as a mother."

"At least someone is," Katniss replied, resting back. "So, where do we go from here?"

"I want to be in both of your lives," Peeta started. "In whatever way you'll let me."

Katniss bit her lip, her brow furrowed in thought. Peeta began to worry that she was having second thoughts about letting him into her and their baby's life. Honestly, he didn't blame her as he could've been a better husband to her…especially after they lost their first child.

Peeta had been heartbroken; they had tried for so long and it had been taken away in just a small instant. That beautiful hope of a child with her dark eyes and hair seem to just disintegrate right in front of him and it left him hopeless for a moment.

However, he buried it deep within him, so Katniss could focus on getting back to herself.

Instead, she became determined to try again, writing down her temperatures and noting her ovulation dates. Lovemaking became a chore for them and he felt that if they failed once more, he would lose her.

One day, Peeta admitted that he wasn't ready to try. The truth was that he was too scared to.

Because he wasn't sure if their marriage could take another loss.

The fight had been a glorious one and he had stormed out, knee deep in anguish.

When Peeta woke up in the woman's bed, she had tossed his phone at him and told him to call his wife back before disappearing into her bathroom.

By the time he got back to their apartment, she was gone.

"Listen," Peeta began. "I made mistakes in our marriage and I'm going to pay for that for the rest of my life. Please believe me when I say that I am not the same man that you married. He was afraid and unsure…desperate for our marriage to stay the same when it should've evolved. Maybe if it had, then we would've been strong enough to weather the pain of losing our first one."

"I don't want to talk about that time," she said in a tight voice.

"But, we should," he responded. "You didn't do anything wrong and neither did I. The baby just wasn't meant to be…but my actions after were my fault. I can't change that, but I've learned from it so that if the next time came around…I would be better…I would be a grown up."

"I felt like such a failure," Katniss told him, her eyes filled with tears. "Like my body wasn't strong enough…like I wasn't strong enough. I thought maybe that baby knew that I wasn't going to be good enough."

Peeta reached, lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

"Katniss, you were…you _are_ going to be a great mother," he assured her. "You always took care of me, anticipated anything that I needed. You knew me before I knew myself."

"You're too hard on yourself," she admonished.

"So are you," he countered. "But we can be better for her."

Katniss nodded, the tears hitting her cheeks.

"For her," she agreed, her hand going over his.

* * *

 _Many months later…_

Katniss opened her eyes suddenly.

Sitting up, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table: _3:00AM_.

Throwing on her robe, Katniss rushed out of the room, heading next door—

"You're being such a good girl."

She started hearing the quiet words and walked silently towards the half-open door, a smile rising on her lips at the sight before her.

Peeta was at the changing table, carefully trying to fasten the diaper on the tiny dark-haired newborn.

"Thanks for being so patient with me, Hope," he continued. "I don't want to wake your Mommy. She needs rest and I need to learn how to be quicker at changing your diaper. I know that I'm not so great now, but I'll catch on before you know it. I think we all will."

Peeta had been there for every appointment, every craving (Katniss loved ice cream at four in the morning), and every crying jag. When the morning sickness continued onto her second trimester and had come to a point where Katniss had to be brought to the hospital for dehydration, he insisted on moving in to take care of her—and she hadn't protested.

They slept in separate bedrooms, of course.

And, everyone had said that the arrangement was insane.

However, it worked for them.

Peeta held her hair up when she was vomiting. He handed her saltines after and let her fall asleep on him whenever they had finally had time to settle down to watch a movie or even read a book. She suspected that he liked it when she did—her dreams were often of him nuzzling his face into her hair.

When she got bigger, he rubbed her feet as she bitched about the uncontrollable gas or not being able to eat sushi or deli meats. Peeta never tried to fix these little annoyances; he listened and when she was done ranting, he agreed that all of it sucked.

"Mommy pumped before going to bed." Peeta was carefully carrying Hope and Katniss' chest constricted seeing how frightened he was to mess up. He held their daughter as if she was made of glass and painstakingly lowered himself into the rocking chair. "So, I have a nice warm bottle for you…I hope I put this together right."

After checking to make sure it was not too hot, Peeta helped guide the nipple into Hope's hungry mouth.

"How does it feel to be four days old?" he asked quietly as the baby suckled. "You're coming into a strange situation and I'm not sure when it will all be resolved."

There were moments when it seemed that he and Katniss were close to…connecting. During her sixth month, her bottom half was aching—not from pregnancy, but from a different ache. Prim assured her that it was normal, going as far as telling Katniss an incredibly graphic story starring her brother-in-law and their kitchen counter during Prim's seventh month.

She would now be inviting them over for dinner.

And, there were moments when Katniss so desperately wanted to ask him to come to her room. However, they were still so tentative in whatever their whole arrangement was. Sex would complicate it—it already had.

Instead, she settled for her shower head whenever Peeta went to the office.

"Just know that your Mommy and I love you so much," he told the baby. "We've both been kind of wandering…living half-lives…and you brought us back to life."

Hope finished her bottle and Katniss watched as Peeta coaxed a small burp from their daughter.

"Now, this is the hard part since I'm not much of a singer," he explained as he stood up, cradling the little bundle that was Hope. "Your Mommy has a much prettier voice, but I'll do what I can. I heard this song and it reminded me of you and Mommy, so just give me a chance before you cry out for her, okay?"

Katniss held her breath, waiting to hear his lullaby as her head rested against the doorway.

" _Way beyond the stars was a dream there waiting for a dreamer_

 _To dream her_

 _Barely just a spark in the open darkness of the ether_

 _The world beneath her…_ "

His voice was rough with exhaustion, but the deep love for their daughter brought out the melodic croon in his singing.

" _I never saw it coming_

 _And one day all of a sudden_

 _There was you, you, you, you…_ "

She remembered this song.

After the baby shower thrown by her family and the Mellarks, they had been sitting in his parents backyard amongst the soft yellow decorations when the song had come on from the radio that cleaning crew had brought with them.

Peeta had asked her to dance and, despite her aching feet, she agreed.

"Did you want to join us?"

She was interrupted by the sight of mussed blond waves and smiling blue eyes. The door had opened without her even realizing it, revealing her lost-in-thought self to Peeta and Hope.

Walking over, Katniss placed a kiss on Hope's head as Peeta put an arm around her. She rested her head against his chest as they began to sway and he continued his song:

" _How could it be so that a heart this full could burst wide open_

 _Be reawoken_

 _Little did I know what a simple thought could set in motion_

 _A drop in the ocean_ …"

This was where she was meant to be.

In Peeta's arms as they rocked this beautiful miracle to sleep.

It was just like that; this certainty…this love.

Maybe it never went away.

It was just buried, letting them dig through the mess of their relationship and seeing if love still had room to grow.

It had, and suddenly Katniss had let him back into her heart.

"She's asleep," he whispered. "I'll put her back."

Together they went to the crib, placing Hope in and then quietly turning off the lights.

Closing the door behind them, Peeta gave her a smile.

"You better get back to bed," he said softly. "We'll be up in a few hours."

Peeta turned to head to his room when she suddenly grabbed his hand.

He turned to her in concern. "You alright?"

Katniss nodded, pulling him towards her open doorway.

Peeta stopped, looking to her, apprehension and…hope in his gaze.

Her hand reached, pressing into his rough cheek. "Stay."

Peeta beamed, his mouth grazing hers and filling her with fire, before replying:

"Okay."

 **FIN**.

So, this was going to be longer, but I felt it would definitely drag the story and, in all honesty, this story would probably be better as a multi-chapter as I would love to dive deeper, have more about their past relationship, and what happened in-between Hope's birth.

Anyway, I like this whole divorced Everlark—makes it all a little more exciting.

Songs:

"Say You'll Stay" —Kai (as a Bay Area pinay, having this Filipino boy band's CD was essential)

"You" —A Great Big World (this is me and Hubbs' song for Toddler J and of course, where I got the story title)

As always, prompts are welcome through all my means of communication. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!

-JLaLa


	5. Guidance

I'm really into the Modern AU's right now, but I have a feeling the next one will be an in-Panem one.

This wonderful prompt comes from keelaree, my pre-reader, and we're heading back to high school where it's a little more PG…maybe.

 _Summary: It started off as a little prank. No one thought that locking Principal Mellark and Miss Everdeen together in a class room was about the worst idea ever. Modern AU._

Guidance

"Tell me…why did you throw a tampon at Coach Hawkins?"

The petite blonde leaned back in the chair, slouching ever so slightly, her folded hands resting on her stomach. She raised a brow at Katniss, blowing a rather large gum bubble before answering.

"Because Marvel got in my face for having cramps," Primrose Abernathy tartly informed her. "He was all like 'This is why no one respects females…yadda, yadda, yadda…'" She chewed her gum, her jaw tight as she spoke. "So I just threw a _clean_ tampon at him and told him if he knew how to work one of them, maybe I could respect him!"

Katniss reached across her desk, her palm out, staring Prim down and waiting.

After a long moment of silence, the teen sat up and spit the gum out into Katniss' palm.

"Okay, now we can really talk. That was really irritating me," she said to the girl. "Prim, you know I like you and you know that you're a brilliant student, but the acting up has got to stop. You're in your junior year and it's time to start applying for college. How can I give you a recommendation when you're academically perfect, but behaviorally you're all over the place?"

"I don't want to go to college," Prim stated. "I want to go to art school."

"Well, okay then," Katniss replied. "Can we just focus on you getting your art portfolio started? There are some great places around the country where you can go. Or maybe even abroad."

Prim crossed her arms. "My brother would never let me leave."

"Maybe I can speak to your brother," Katniss suggested. "He would not be the first guardian that I've had to talk to in regard to a student's after-high school choices."

"He's a tough cookie to crack," the teen informed her.

Katniss grinned. "I'm tougher."

"You look like a ball-buster," Prim said with a chuckle. She sighed before meeting Katniss' penetrating gaze. "You really know some good art schools?"

"A good friend of mine, Annie Odair, is the goddaughter of Mags Laurent—Dean of Panem Arts Institute. If you could present a decent portfolio, I'm sure that I can ask Annie to have her godmother look it over. I can't make any promises that you'll get in, but at least you'll have your foot in somewhere."

Prim jumped out of her seat, practically throwing herself into Katniss' arms. "Thank you, Katniss!"

"Miss Everdeen," Katniss corrected.

"Of course," Prim responded, still excited over Katniss' words. "I know how much Principal Mellark hates when any of us call you by your first name."

Katniss grimaced at the mention of her boss. "Well, he is the principal…"

"You know it's because he has a huge crush on you, right?" Prim informed her, her mouth in a wide smile. "It's like when a boy pulls your hair on the playground—it's because he wants your attention."

"We're not at a playground, we're in high school," Katniss retorted.

Prim shrugged. "Same rules, bigger playground." The bell rang and the teen grabbed her backpack. "I have to get my French homework done—have a good lunch, _Miss Everdeen_."

In spite of herself, she laughed. "Get out of here already!"

Blowing her a playful kiss, Prim rushed out into the hall.

Sitting back, Katniss took a breath—she was barely halfway through the day.

All in the life of a high school guidance counselor.

* * *

"Are you kidding me?" Johanna Mason, who taught English Literature, screeched as Katniss walked into the teachers' lounge. She joined her best friend and co-worker, pulling out her lunch from her tote bag as Johanna read through an essay. Katniss could already see the numerous red pen marks. "You do not quote the movie _Clueless_ in an essay!"

"Is it an essay about Jane Austen?" Katniss asked.

"No, it's about _Siddartha_ ," Johanna huffed. "No…no…NO!" She wrote, ' **See me'** , on the paper and then turned to Katniss. "And, how has your day been going?"

"One of my students threw a tampon at Marvel," she informed her friend.

"I heard. He came in here bitching like a little girl," Johanna said. "He's cute, but I highly doubt that Marvel knows how to insert anything into a woman. You'll probably hear about it from Principal Mellark though."

Katniss put her head down on the table. "Please don't remind me! I can never catch a break with him!"

Johanna patted her shoulder consolingly.

"At least if you get a lecture from him again, you can just sit in his office and imagine him bending you over his desk to give you a good spanking."

"Please, Johanna. That man is so tightly wound up, I think he needs to be the one getting his ass smacked! Might loosen up a little…and I mean a little."

"Miss Everdeen."

Katniss scrunched her eyes close, the blood draining from her face.

Of course, it would be him.

Sitting up, she turned to find Principal Peeta Mellark standing behind her chair. Somewhere behind her, Johanna had suddenly gone back to grading papers, indicated by the sudden shuffling of papers.

"Yes…Principal Mellark?" Katniss met his cool-blue eyes as she stood up. Despite his stiff form, Peeta Mellark was handsome man, with wavy blond locks that were always neat and the chiseled jaw of a Hemsworth brother, or even Chris Pine—she and Johanna could never seem to agree.

They did agree that Peeta had an ass that you could bounce quarters off of.

"May I speak with you in my office?"

Katniss nodded, packing her things and meeting Johanna's eyes quickly before joining Principal Mellark, who was waiting for her at the door.

"After you," he said congenially.

Quickly, Katniss stepped out of the lounge and they walked along the locker-lined walls towards the main offices. Some of her students waved at her, warily glancing at Principal Mellark as the continued down the hall.

"May I ask what you needed me for?" she asked as they reached his office door. Like before, Peeta held the door open for her before stepping inside.

"It's about Primrose Abernathy," he told her squarely. "Why are you encouraging her to go to art school?"

"Because it's where she wants to go," she replied simply. "I can't demand that she choose an academic college."

"You could have at least given her options," her boss argued. "If Prim doesn't get into an art school, which is highly likely, then she will have realized that it was a good idea to have had a back-up."

"I am not in the business of discouraging my students if they have dreams." Katniss approached him. "They will be in the real world soon enough and will discover for themselves disappointment and discouragement. For now, however, I choose to give them hope. They have to learn how to hold onto it, anyway."

She stopped realizing how close she was to the man. Katniss could almost see that fire hiding behind those penetrating eyes of his. She took a breath feeling the heat emanating from in-between them.

Peeta coughed softly, breaking the tension.

"Katniss…Miss Everdeen…just have her apply to one other school—in case, okay?"

Katniss nodded. "Alright. Just let her turn in her portfolio to me and I can make the assessment. There are colleges that have great art programs, too."

The man in front of her broke into a smile. "Thank you."

"Three."

Peeta looked to her in confusion.

"Three times—that's the third time that I've actually seen you smile this whole semester."

* * *

In the library, past the biographies and the no longer useable card catalogue sat three juniors deep in conversation.

"I don't know if I should be doing this," Rory Hawthorne said anxiously. "We could get caught."

"Or it can just be a mere accident," Prim told him easily. "Come on…you're the one who told me that your big brother broke her heart."

"And, I'm her next-door neighbor," Rue supplied. "Everyone remembers when she came back after her parents died, she didn't want to lose her childhood home, so she dropped out of getting her doctorate to work a job where she has to be a guidance counselor for a majority of dumbasses. She deserves a little poke and squeeze—if you know what I mean."

"If this plan works…maybe she'll get a little happier… _they_ both might," Prim said. "Then, we'll all get to share in their joy."

After once more going over their master plan, they all split up to go to their next classes—but not before agreeing that it would go down after school.

* * *

"Hey Katniss!" She turned to see Rue, her neighbor and student, rushing towards her. Raising a brow, the young woman slowed. "I mean, Miss Everdeen…sorry I forgot."

"It's okay," Katniss responded easily. "What's up?"

"I was in the Arts Building and I heard a crash in one of the closets!" Rue explained in a panic. "I think someone might've hurt themselves or something!"

Katniss was already heading towards the building. "You didn't check?"

"I was kind of scared," Rue replied as she rushed alongside the guidance counselor.

Rue hoped that Prim had already placed her assigned target in.

The pair continued, leaving the science building and entering the adjacent one—the arts building. It resembled a large barn with each room having sliding doors. They continued on until, finally, Rue stopped at the last door which was where Effie Trinket taught acrylic painting and other art media.

"I heard the noise in that closet as I was heading out…" Rue pointed to the back corner. "…over there."

Tentatively, Katniss walked into the classroom. She knew that Effie kept some rather fragile supplies in that room and it would be a shame if they were tampered with or stolen.

Halfway through the room, she heard a shuffle. "Hello?"

There was another indistinguishable noise and a heavy set of footsteps.

Principal Mellark suddenly stepped out of the supply closet. He looked at her in surprise.

"Katniss?"

Then, the door behind them slid shut.

* * *

"They are going to kill us," Rue said to Prim as her friend put the deadbolt through the latch.

"Please…they're going to thank us," her friend replied. "I took Peeta's phone."

"Katniss didn't have hers. I'm pretty sure that I would have seen it through her pencil skirt or cardigan," Rue added. "I know where her spare key is, so I'll just go into her house and turn on the lights so my parents don't get suspicious."

They saw Rory rushing over to them, right as they heard the banging against the door.

He looked at where the sound was coming from before turning to the girls. "I see the job is done."

Prim crossed her arms. "And your job?"

"The janitors only clean this building over the weekend and I distracted the cleaning team by starting a food fight in one of the classrooms. No one will even come down here."

"Great job everyone—" Prim grimaced hearing Katniss screech. "Let's celebrate. Burgers on me!"

They headed towards the exit, never turning back at the persistent banging against the door.

* * *

"Hello!" Katniss banged against the door. "Is anyone there?"

"Forget it. The janitorial staff only comes here during the weekends," Peeta informed her grimly. "Budget cuts and all."

"I left my phone in my office." Katniss leaned back against the door, closing her eyes in exasperation. "And, you?"

"Prim took mine," he pulled out a stool from one of the desk islands. "She left to call Haymitch and just never came back. Then you walked in—I'm going to kill her."

"That's going a little too far," Katniss quipped. "She's just a teenager."

Peeta shook his head. "Well, she's just my little sister."

She turned to him in shock, noting how frustrated he seemed to be.

Teenage girls can be difficult, especially when they are your little sister.

"You have different last names," she said simply.

"My parents were barely out of high school when they had me," Peeta explained. "They waited till I was about thirteen before having Prim. A year later, they were gone. Haymitch, who is my godfather, took custody and eventually adopted us. I chose to keep my last name, but Prim barely remembers my parents, so it was no surprise that she didn't keep Mellark."

"Does she live with you?" Katniss asked curiously. "I mean, she's never mentioned you, at least by name, and she's one of my kids."

"No, she lives with Haymitch," he said. "By the way, he thinks you're a hoot. Prim always talks about her cool guidance counselor."

Katniss chuckled. "I'm flattered. Prim is a great girl—when she isn't creating havoc. In all actuality, she is smart, confident, and a natural leader."

"Glad to hear," Peeta replied. He stopped for a moment. "You know, this is the first time that we've ever had a real conversation. Why is that?"

"Because you're an asshole."

He whipped around at her. "What?"

Katniss joined him, hopping up on the table that he sat on.

"I mean, you're rigid when it comes to the teaching plans…and book choices…and what kind of art we should be creating…and you're especially hard on the counseling team—you've fought me on every one of my advisement sessions. I've been counseling kids since I was practically in high school! I have a Masters in Child Psychology and Development. My thesis was about the development of teens in the social media age."

Peeta look unimpressed. "So?"

"So why then do you pick on me?" she grumbled at him. "Is it because I'm younger than all the counselors? You can't be older than me by more than three…four years!"

"Six years," he corrected. "I'm not picking on you either, Katniss. You just have to understand that I am under a lot of pressure. Principal Snow left me with a lot of mistakes; mistakes which unfortunately I have to fix, even two years after his retirement. Mistakes that everyone sees as foibles of a new, overly ambitious principal!"

There was a moment of silence after the tirade, the only noise being Peeta's harsh breathing. Katniss suddenly felt horrible for even calling him an asshole. He had been trying to right everything all alone.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't realize…" Katniss inched a little closer to him, her legs almost to where his hands rested on the table's surface. "You should tell the staff; it's not right to bear the burden all alone, especially when it's ruining what could be a great tenure as principal of this school."

Peeta nodded, acknowledging her words.

"I pick on you, Katniss—" Peeta started. "—because you are the person here with the most potential. The staff loves you. The kids adore you…you're a great example to them. I admire that about you."

She grinned, trying to keep her cheeks from warming. "You admire me?"

Peeta met her eyes and Katniss stopped herself from shivering under his strong gaze.

"Katniss, you have no idea the effect you have on me."

* * *

"I had just graduated from college," Katniss told him. "I had come home one night and there was a message on my answering machine…it was the police."

The sun had set, leaving the room in darkness. However, they were able to find some tealight candles in the supply room along with a confiscated set of matches in Effie's drawer.

They had foregone formalities and now sat back against the farthest wall from the door, his jacket being used as their seating cushion. Katniss undid her braid and Peeta had loosened his tie, her heels rested next to her and about an hour after she had abandoned them, he had taken off his loafers.

"My parents were getting gas before heading home and they were robbed," she continued, her voice tightening. "There must have been a scuffle because it looked like my Dad had tried to protect my mother before he was shot…then according to the police, a minute after, my Mom was gone."

"Oh God, Katniss…I never realized," Peeta said quietly. "You always seemed so carefree…even cheerful whenever I've seen you."

"I've had a lot of therapy," she admitted. "And there have been some pretty dark days. Whenever their death anniversary comes around, Johanna always comes over with chocolate cake and lamb stew."

"Comfort foods?" he asked her with a small smile.

She tried to not concentrate on how adorable he looked with a smile on his face.

"My mom used to make them for my birthday—my favorite dishes."

Her eyes closed remembering the celebrations she had with her parents, sometimes at home and other times in beautiful destinations like Greece or Paris—but they always had lamb stew and chocolate cake wherever it was.

"After that, I couldn't just abandon the home that I was raised in and have it sold to some strangers. I used what I inherited to keep it going and decided against getting my doctorate. A masters is more than enough."

"You're a brave woman, Katniss Everdeen," Peeta told her, his eyes warm even in the cool stillness of the room. "I don't know if anyone ever tells you that…like your boyfriend or something like that."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she replied quickly. "I did about a year ago…you know Rory Hawthorne?"

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. Nice kid."

"I was dating his older brother, Gale. In the end, we just wanted different things," Katniss explained. "I wanted to continue on here with my kids…and he wanted to start making kids. I don't know—I'm all for marriage and kids. With him though, it just didn't feel like…it."

"I see. I still like Rory, but I hate his brother," Peeta said and she laughed. "I mean it! You're young and still have so much to offer. And, when it's right…it's just right."

"And, you…is there anyone fretting over you at home right now?" she asked carefully.

"No, there isn't anyone," he told her. "I'm not very sociable. Most of my weekends are with Prim and Haymitch. It's just the way it is, I suppose. No woman wants a man who is married to his job."

"You have to kick ass while there is still ass to be kicked," Katniss pointed out. "You did say you were ambitious."

"To the point of controlling, as you so casually mentioned."

She shrugged. "Well, you're an asshole and I'm a bit of a bitch. We're a perfect pair."

They fell into an easy laughter and, as they settled back, their arms brushed against one another's. Katniss felt the frisson of pleasure roll through her body and she squirmed trying to quiet the heat rising inside.

"Katniss?" She turned to find herself looking straight into Peeta's eyes. "I like you."

Katniss swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. "You do?"

"I'm not very smooth and it can definitely come off like I am being a dickhead," he quipped nervously. "But I do like you…since the moment you yelled at me for taking that book from Johanna Mason's syllabus."

Her mouth was just about a breath away from his.

"It was _Death of a Salesman_ , pure American fiction. You couldn't possibly leave it out—especially with all the crappy books being printed these days."

He smiled practically against her lips. "Can I kiss you?"

"I think you mean 'May I kiss you?'," she responded boldly. "And, I think you should."

His mouth pressed to hers and Katniss was surprised of the intensity of just slightest brush of his lips. A hungry cry escaped her and his hand moved to deepen the kiss for what felt like the briefest of seconds.

"Katniss?"

Her name coming from his mouth was about the hottest thing she heard in a long while.

"Again."

Peeta laughed roughly, his lips pressing to her neck, teasing his way up until he was behind her lobe.

"Okay, sweetheart…again."

There was no noise after that, only muffled moans and the soft thumps of discarded clothing…

* * *

"So, Mommy and Daddy fell in love after one peck?" the five-year-old asked incredulously. "What did they do for the rest of the night until you, Aunt Rue, and Uncle Rory found them?"

It was at the tip of Prim's tongue to respond, 'Create you'.

However, those kinds of words were better left unsaid to innocent ears.

So instead, Prim replied, "They talked and eventually fell asleep."

She never imagined how all of their lives would change after her ingenious scheme. Two months after, her brother and Katniss were waking her up in the dead of night to tell her that they were engaged. A month after, they were married in the same church that Katniss' parents were married in. She was Maid of Honor while her father, Haymitch, served as Best Man.

It was at their reception where her father would meet Effie Trinket, where Johanna would meet their distant cousin, Cato, and where Rory would kiss her for the first time.

She sighed contentedly, looking at the beautiful pear-shaped diamond on her left ring finger.

It was soon after the wedding that Katniss realized that she had not had her period in a rather long time. The reason for it was a perfectly-formed fetus measuring about twelve to thirteen weeks since they had been trapped in a classroom.

They named her Angela—after Katniss' mother.

The next one, Katniss and Peeta promised, would be named after their father, Gregory.

"Gigi…" It was everyone's nickname for her dark-haired, blue-eyed niece. "Storytime is over!" She helped her niece into bed, tucking her in-between the soft yellow sheets. "Did anyone tell you how adorably annoying you can be?"

Gigi shrugged. "Everyone says I remind them of you."

"You may not realize it now." Prim kissed the top of her head. "But that's a compliment."

The little girl snorted, sounding very much like her mother.

"If you say so." Gigi yawned and gave her a sleepy smile. "Love you, Aunt Prim."

"Love you too, little duck," she replied, shutting off the light and going to the door.

As soon as Prim closed the bedroom door, her cell rang. She smiled seeing her brother's happy face on her screen—he smiled a lot brighter after he and Katniss got together.

Then, her smile fell into a grimace remembering that dopey, obviously post-coital smile that he had when they finally released them from their love nest.

Quickly, she answered the phone, "How's it going?"

"Katniss is almost there. Just a centimeter or two to go," Peeta replied. "How's Gigi?"

"Asleep," Prim informed him. "Made me tell her the story of how you two got together again."

Peeta chuckled against the receiver. "You kept it clean, right?"

"Of course. She's not a newborn anymore!" She straightened a picture of herself, Haymitch, and the couple in the hallway. In the photo, Katniss was about four weeks to Gigi's due date and despite the smile, she had been particularly grumpy because of the heatwave that month. "As for Gregory, he'll get the real version—while he can't understand what I'm mean when I say 'sex hair'."

"Always a character, Prim," her brother said affectionately. "You know I never did thank you for locking us in there."

"You've more than thanked me, big brother," she told him. "You gave me a sister and a spunky niece, and now a nephew…you and Katniss made us all come together. It made it easier when I left for the Panem Art Institute. I didn't have to worry, you weren't alone."

"I love you, Prim," Peeta said gruffly into the phone.

"Love you, too," she replied. "Tell Katniss I said good luck. Haymitch and I will have her lamb stew and chocolate cake when she comes home. Hopefully your son won't tear up her vagina like Gigi did."

"I'll tell her first half before the labor…and the second half while she's in recovery."

They hung up as she could hear Peeta being called back by a nurse.

Prim smiled, placing her phone back into her jeans pocket.

The plan had been worth it.

The month-long detention, however, had not.

 **FIN.**

The request had been for Principal Peeta and Guidance Counselor Katniss…I hope I delivered. It was definitely fun to work with this prompt as the last one was a bit angsty—and I managed to keep this PG!

Hope you enjoyed it and as always, I welcome prompts via all the ways you can communicate with me.

See you at the next one!

-LaLa


	6. Two Kids

Yes, so I am totally stuck on working on The Family Plan…boo me.

In the meantime, I'm going to give you some let's-have-a-toastbaby Everlark.

Thank you to the anon who was in much need of Katniss wanting to have another baby.

 _ **Summary**_ _: Katniss decides that it's time for another baby. Now if she could only tell Peeta…_

 _Post-Hunger Games Everlark, slight Hayhanna, and general fluff._

 _They'll tell us, honey  
"You've gotta know, you've gotta know where you're going."  
But you are my sun, my northern lights, my southern cross  
And if we're gonna die young  
We're gonna die with a love song in our mouths…_

 _-Laura Gibson_

Two Kids

"You did real good, sweetheart."

My gaze goes to Peeta at the doorway of our boy's room. After half an hour of whispered lullabies and gentle rump pats, Jack is down for his nap. He breathes deeply into his worn blanket—a present sent from Annie—before I feel him relax into slumber.

"It wasn't without a fair amount of negotiation," I inform him quietly.

Pushing up with my knee, I slowly stand from the short mattress and join Peeta. Putting an arm around my shoulders, he pulls me close before kissing the side of my head.

"Negotiation?" His chuckle travels against my skin and that familiar tingle hits my senses. "This is District 12, not the Capitol."

" _Your_ son decided that he wanted jelly sandwiches…but cut into triangles. Then, he proceeded to separate the bread pieces before eating them. I promised him five minutes of time with Haymitch if he hurried up and finished eating before his nap."

"Stubborn," Peeta replies. "Sounds more like your son."

We close the door behind us, heading down the hallway and into our room. It had been our room since I came in one night after Peeta's return to District 12. It had been stormy, the lightning flashes highlighting the shadows and reminding me of the underground creatures of the Capitol.

I was scared that first night that I approached his room.

Goodness knows that I am not good with words or feelings; that I had hurt Peeta many times over and, in turn, he had done the same though unintentionally. Though I seem confident, the thought of him rejecting me from his bed and from his life would have completely left me undone.

However, Peeta didn't turn me away.

Instead, he welcomed me into his arms, letting me rest my head to his chest.

He has welcomed me ever since.

"He gave me your smile." I help him out of his sweater, brushing fallen leaves off of it. Autumn has come to District 12 and, after his morning shift at the newly built Mellark Bakery, Peeta trudged home to find me cajoling Jack for his afternoon nap. "And, then…"

Peeta pulls me close and I breathe him in, my stomach fluttering at the warmth of his body.

"And then?"

"I was a goner," I tell him.

His mouth is suddenly on mine and I feel my knees actually weaken at the kiss. The laugh rises up thinking how far gone I am over Peeta Mellark—my prepubescent self would be shaking her head. I was never one for love or affection; fear of being in the arena taught me to suppress that hope.

Then, this boy…this man had to go and kindle it.

We pull apart after much too short of a moment.

Peeta nods towards our bed. "Come on."

I cross my arms suspiciously. "Why?"

He gives me that oh-so-boyish grin and I know that, in seconds, I'll be on that mattress.

"You need a nap."

* * *

' _I want another baby'._

The thought comes to me as I watch Peeta attempt to get Jack to eat the carrots on his small plate. My two men differ in coloring; Peeta is golden with bright-blue eyes while Jack has my thick, dark tendrils and my father's charcoal eyes.

Jack suddenly reaches and his plate suddenly finds its place on his head. He laughs brightly and Peeta follows, wiping our son's mouth with an amused grin.

Their smiles are completely alike.

I suddenly imagine a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"You okay?"

Shaking myself from my reverie, I nod quickly. "Sorry. Just spaced out for a moment."

"Maybe you need a nap," Peeta suggests, his gaze suddenly on me.

The image of his bare body and strong hands stroking me into completion penetrates my mind.

I try to stop the blush. "I think I'm rested enough." Sitting back, I take a deep breath. "Just thinking that I haven't spoken to my mother in a while."

"Oh, any particular reason why?" Peeta asks. "You feeling okay?"

Nodding, I reach over to Jack and wipe his mouth.

In return, my son blows a raspberry at me.

* * *

"Katniss!" My mother's bright voice greets me from District 4 over the receiver. It has taken a long time for that joy to come back to her. Only now, almost a year since Jack's birth, have we both come to a better place. "How are you and Peeta? Jack?"

"I'm fine…" The words manage to stumble out of my mouth. "…so are Peeta and Jack." Steeling myself, I take a deep breath. "Mom, can I ask you a question?"

She pauses at my abruptness. "Well…sure."

"I want another baby…and how…how do I go about that?"

I let out a breath after finally getting my words out, awaiting her answer.

Instead, I get a chuckle.

"I suppose you go about it the same way you did with Jack," my mother informs me. "Please don't tell me that you've forgotten the mechanics of intercourse—"

"Of course, I remember!" I calm myself before continuing. "Jack wasn't expected. He sort of just happened."

Peeta was the one who wanted children. It took him several years of convincing and, when it happened—after celebrating the reopening of Mellark Bakery—I was hesitant. The thought of a miniature Prim haunted my thoughts. When Jack kicked inside, I hoped that there wasn't a hint of gold in his hair or a snippet of blue in his eyes.

And when he was born, I cried because he wasn't Prim.

Jack was just Jack—and it was love at first sight.

I am not sure why this time is different; why the thought of blonde hair and blue eyes doesn't bother me. I don't think that it's because I'm over Prim. Maybe the pain of giving birth to someone like her has just become a little bit more bearable over time.

"You are still at a good age for childbearing, Katniss," my mother says. "Maybe you will need to do some calculating on when you ovulate if you want to give it a try."

"Ovulate?"

My mother sighs before explaining how to count from the first day of my menstrual cycle.

"Write this down," she continues and I look around the counter of our kitchen, spotting the pen in the last drawer of it. Peeta had started a shopping list of food for our cupboards and I take that piece of paper and flip it over. "Counting from your first day of period, you will ovulate around a week or two after. An egg will travel from your ovary to your fallopian tube to get to your uterus—sometime between day 10 to day 15, assuming you have a regular 28-day cycle. Do you have all of that?"

"Day 10 to 15…28-day cycle…" I jot down the words down quickly. "And are we supposed to try…frequently during that time?"

My mother chuckles. "You can try as many times as you like—unless you don't exactly enjoy it."

I can feel my face burst with heat. "Peeta is more than satisfactory!"

"Well then, you should have no problem," she replies easily. "Try not to stress out. You have spoken to Peeta about this, right?"

"Not exactly." I nervously bite my lip. "I'm not sure how to approach him."

"Just be honest," my mother tells me.

"I really don't know why I want to try now…I just want to."

"A woman's body sometimes sends her signs." She pauses for a moment. "So does her heart. Maybe it's telling you that it might be okay to want a little gold in your life…he or she is not going to Prim. However, it's okay. Because you'll love him or her no matter what."

My throat is suddenly full. "Thanks Mom."

"Good luck, Katniss. Keep me posted."

We hang up and I look over the written words once more.

"Day 10 to 15 of my cycle…"

"It would probably help if you had a calendar."

I turn around to find Haymitch stepping into the kitchen from our back entrance.

He smirks at me.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

* * *

"So, another baby huh?" Haymitch looks out from our front porch to where Jack runs about the space in-between our homes. My son stops to look at something in the dirt, running his small, stubby finger through the soil. "I think another baby would be good for Jack."

I look to my former mentor. "Really? I never expected that answer from you."

"Maybe if you had gotten knocked up during the Rebellion, I might have been a little…peeved." Haymitch never curses around Jack. "It's been years and you have Jack. I think it is safe to try for another."

"I don't suppose you have any tips on how to approach this with Peeta," I say carefully.

"You really think I have tips on how to seduce your man?" Haymitch guffaws. "That is the one thing I cannot mentor you on." He breathes in, waving to Jack who is currently showing us the earthworm wriggling in his grasp. "I do know who can."

I raise a brow. "Who?"

"Johanna. As I recall, Peeta had a good view of her seduction tactics." A low whistle escapes Haymitch's lips. "We all did."

The old remnants of jealousy rise inside.

"Johanna…she was always one to let it out in the open." I do remember the look of innocent arousal in Peeta's eyes. I trusted him, but I couldn't help but envy Johanna's figure and her confidence. "And, she was one of those Capitol jewels."

"There is more to her, Katniss," Haymitch explains, sympathy in his eyes. "She had family once. I think a little brother… around Jack's age when Snow decided to punish her." Jack runs over, settling on Haymitch's lap. He lets my son rest against his chest, dirty face and all. "She would like to see this…your life…your son."

Haymitch presses a kiss to the top of Jack's head.

We named our son after our mentor's father; it was the least we could do after everything that Haymitch has been through with us.

We don't regret it.

* * *

"So, Johanna is coming to visit?" Peeta joins us at the kitchen table, placing the warm loaf next to the Dutch oven holding tonight's dinner. "I didn't know you two were close."

"We roomed together in District 13," I say as I begin to scoop bowls of stew out for us. "She's staying at Haymitch's, though. Plus, she wants to meet Jack."

"Sounds good to me," he replies with an easy smile. Peeta suddenly peers at me. "You alright?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" My gaze goes to Jack who offers me a gummy smile. "Do I look alright?"

"Muh…muh…" is our son's reply.

"I think he's saying that you're pretty," Peeta tells me with a grin.

I kiss Jack's cheek. "Thank you."

"Hey!" Peeta protests. "I think you're pretty, too!"

So, I kiss him.

By the time I pull away, the stew is cold and Jack has spilled his all over himself.

* * *

"So, this is District 12…" Johanna peers around as we walk down the platform of the train station. Her eyes go to Jack, who is toddling between us. "And, this is Jack…"

"Yes." I look to Jack and smile. "Do you want to say hello to Johanna?"

My son stares up at Johanna before promptly shaking his head.

Johanna snorts as we continue heading down towards the center of town.

"He really is your son." She pats his head, just barely, and gives him a grin. "His eyes are Peeta's, though—pure as the day is long." Her eyes meet mine searchingly. "And you want another one?"

I nod resolutely. "Yes."

"And, you need my help?" We continue on, heading towards the Mellark Bakery. "According to Haymitch, you are inept when it comes to sexual prowess."

I turn to her in shock. "Did you guys sit there and analyze everything about me?"

"Not everything," she tells me plainly. "Haymitch just mentioned that you're…lacking in the confidence department."

"This is a bad idea." Why did I even allow Haymitch to tell Johanna? I feel like my whole life is being exposed to the world all over again—like there are millions of people in the Capitol, just watching me try to be passably seductive. "Listen, you should just go back home—"

"No. I'm not leaving until Peeta drags you over his shoulder and puts a kid in you," Johanna says. She looks me over. "You have potential, but you do need to have a little faith in yourself." She puts her hands on my shoulders to steady me. "Just trust me."

"Trust is a fickle word, Johanna." I take a deep breath. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Do you have lingerie?" she asks. "I mean, anything that might entice Peeta."

I look down at my khaki pants and knit sweater. This is pretty much my daily outfit, easy to hunt with and chase Jack as needed.

"I'm going to take that as a no." Johanna turns to my son. "What do you think? You want another brother or sister?"

Jack gives her a hard stare and then shakes his head. "No."

In return, Johanna grins. "I think we're going to have some fun."

* * *

"I'm not wearing that."

It is sheer…and short. The one good thing is that it's a dark maroon which is better than some of the louder colors that Johanna suggested.

She holds up the scrap of fabric. "It's lingerie. You want him to be open to the idea of another child, right?" I nod helplessly. "Imagine if you were wearing this and just happen to slip in the whole baby idea into his mind."

I balk at the idea; but I have no idea what Peeta's reaction would be. The truth of the matter is that, when it comes to sex, the majority of experimentation was just been between the two of us. We were each other firsts and well, we barely just got into the whole sex thing when Jack came along.

No one explained the whole ovulation thing to us, nor was I very good at maintaining proper birth control. When Jack came along, breastfeeding kept me safe from another, but Peeta and I never had time to be together, anyhow.

"Try it on!" Johanna tosses it at me. "If it sucks, then we move along."

"Fine." I begin to take everything off before slipping the sheer nothing on. I turn and present myself to Johanna. "Well?"

"Lose the bra and panties." I growl and Johanna rolls her eyes. "It's losing its effect with the underwear on…and the bra is not that nice, anyway."

"I never needed one until Jack—and it's easy to put on." My friend remains silent, tapping her foot impatiently. Relenting, I remove my underwear and then look to her. "How about now?"

"Better," Johanna says simply. "I mean, I'd do you." She leads me over to the mirror in the corner of her guest bedroom. "Take a look."

Steeling my courage, I meet my eyes in the mirror.

I'm horrific.

I stare at the stretch marks and old scars from the Rebellion painted against my legs. My breasts are non-existent now that Jack is done breastfeeding and I look…tired. There isn't a part of me that looks desirable at all—I'm surprised that Peeta ever wanted to touch me.

As quickly as I can I throw my clothes on over the monstrosity that is my body, I am ripping the door open.

"Tell Haymitch I'll pick Jack up later—"

Johanna reaches, her eyes somber. "Katniss…"

I can't deal with her sympathy.

So, I just turn around and leave.

* * *

I don't know how long I sit out in that forest behind the border fence.

The sun is going down and I know that I'll have to get home to feed Jack as well as get dinner ready. However, the thought of facing Peeta…or Haymitch…or Johanna is too much to even think about.

It's been so long since I've been out here. However, it doesn't feel that long ago that I was sitting here with Gale and talking about the Games, telling him that I will never have children because of them. Times have changed; I haven't talked to Gale since our last talk about Prim and those horrific bombs. Once in a while, I'll hear a bit about him from a townsperson. He's married now and has a brood of dark-haired children.

It doesn't hurt to think about Gale; I mourn the camaraderie we had—though I never knew he wanted more between us.

Not until after I was out of the arena, anyway.

I lay back on the grass, staring up at the darkening sky. I can't remember the last time I even looked up at the night sky.

"The Victory Tour. There was a sky light in the room that we slept in." Peeta sits next to me as I push myself up on my elbows. "You were wondering when was the last time you looked up at the sky."

I sit up properly. "I didn't know I was speaking out loud."

"You weren't," he tells me. "I just kind of knew." Peeta smiles gently at me, his face even more handsome in the dusk of the day. "I guess when you're together as long as we've been, it becomes second nature to understand your partner's thoughts."

I shake my head. "No, it isn't." I give him a rueful smile. "Gale and I knew each other since we were kids. In the end, we knew nothing about each other."

"Maybe you did know. When you love a person, you just don't want to admit that there are negatives."

Straightening myself, I take his hand.

"Peeta, you know that the way I love you is different then the way I loved Gale, right?"

Peeta nods, running a hand through his hair in contemplation.

"I do. Sometimes though, I do feel like you settled," he admits. "And the thought kills me because I worry you'll want more—that you'll always be searching."

"For what?"

"Peace." He meets my eyes and something inside catches seeing the anguish. It radiates off him, in his hunched shoulders, his pained gaze, the way he places a hand just above the spot where his prosthetic leg begins. "Lately, it seems like you're somewhere else. Like all this…Jack…me—that we're not enough. Then, I come home and Johanna tells me that you've gone missing—"

I pull him to me, bringing his head to my chest, letting him feel my heart beating.

"Damnit Peeta, don't you know that you and Jack are what keep me going?" I kiss the top of his head, feeling him trembling against me. "You are my guide post, the one thing that keeps me steady—and I need that. I need you."

Peeta pulls away, relief in his gaze. "Then what is going on? You've been off these past few days."

I realize that, if I had just built up the courage to admit what I wanted, Peeta wouldn't be in such a panic. In the end, we're the only ones who keep the other from caving into themselves.

"Peeta…" My head drops, afraid to meet his eyes. "I want to have another baby."

There is silence except for crickets chirping loudly around us.

"Is that it?" My head shoots up at Peeta's beaming expression. "You want to have another baby?"

"Yes. It seems silly now that I'm telling you," I say. "It's just I think I've always been afraid that I would be having kids because I needed to have another Prim. Then, I was pregnant with Jack and I spent that whole time wishing he wouldn't have a touch of her." I let out a shaky breath. "Now…I think that it wouldn't be so bad to have someone as bright and gold as she was…he or she would be that way because of you—the brightest part of my life. You and Jack, I mean."

Peeta caresses my cheek tenderly. "Now, how could anyone not be flattered by that?" I let out a relieved laugh. "And, why did you rush away to the middle of the woods?"

"It's all very complicated," I begin. "I asked my mom for help on how to bring this up to you and Haymitch came in our conversation—"

Peeta chuckles. "I bet he gave you shit."

"Actually, he was really supportive. Goes to show how much he loves his godson…I have no doubt he'll love the next one just as much. Haymitch suggested that I contact Johanna for advice."

"Advice?"

I hang my head once more.

"On how to be more seductive so you wouldn't oppose having another one…but it just went to crap." I pull bits of grass between my fingers. "And, now I have no idea how you could even look at me when we're together. Thank goodness we keep the lights off during—"

"Please explain," Peeta says.

"Johanna gave me lingerie." I feel my eyes fill suddenly. "And I look horrible. During the Games, I remember looking in the mirror before my interview with Caesar and thinking I was as radiant as the sun. Now, I look at myself and I see dark circles and stretch marks…and horrible, horrible scars."

"What is lingerie?" Peeta asks.

"It's like shorter, fancy pajamas…but you definitely can't sleep in it. And, it's see-through. You see every gross part," I continue. "I was looking in that mirror with Johanna and I felt…ugly. So I just threw my clothes over it and ran out of there."

Peeta remains still. "So, you're wearing the lingerie now?"

"Yes. I plan to throw it in the fireplace when I get home," I respond resolutely.

"Can I see it?" he suddenly asks.

I cross my arms over my chest. "No!"

"It was supposed to be for me," Peeta points out. "I think I should be able to see it."

"Peeta…you'll see everything," I tell him tightly. "It's not pretty or remotely enticing."

He stands up, taking my hand so I'll stand with him. "That's for me to decide."

Except for the rising moon, it is dark so I relent.

"Fine." I begin to unbutton my top. "Don't say I didn't warn you—"

"Just go a little slower," he tells me in a tight voice.

I raise a brow at him. "Okay…" I pause between buttons and then slowly move my shirt off my shoulders, presenting the top half. "The pants are not coming off."

"Come on," Peeta urges, his eyes glued to the expanse of exposed skin. "I need to see the intended effect."

"Intended effect?" I scoff. "This is a lot of persuading over a scarp of cloth."

"If it's a scrap of cloth, then what's the difference?" he counters.

Huffing, I unbutton the waist, stopping when Peeta tuts at me. "Oh right… _slowly_."

I take my time unzipping, sliding the zipper track by track before pushing the slacks over my hips and leaning forward to slide the legs off one by one.

Slipping off my shoes, I step onto the cool grass before closing my eyes.

I can hear Peeta's circling steps though he remains completely silent. My stomach is in knots as my ears catch a slight cough escape his throat. Hunter instincts tell me when he comes closer and then I can feel him…the heat of him against my skin and his breath against my lobe.

"You are beautiful," he tells me softly.

My eyes open to see him standing just a breath away from me and my chest flutters at his stare.

"But, the scars and the stretch marks—"

"Scars that say that you're a fighter and marks because you carried our child." Peeta closes the space between us. "I never thought that I would say that… _our_ child. I never thought we would be standing here because you want another. These marks show me that this is all real because you and I have the scars to prove it."

Peeta presses his mouth to mine, his arm rounding my waist to bring us closer. He deepens our kiss and his tongue, brilliantly, caresses mine, drawing out a moan from my lips.

"Yes." He leads me down to the grass. "Let's try for another."

"Here?"

"Yes." Peeta grins roguishly. "I need to examine this lingerie of yours."

I laugh. "And what do you think?"

"I prefer you naked." His hand moves along my stomach, stopping at the juncture of my thighs. "Johanna did come all the way here to bring this to you, though—so I should appreciate it."

In one quick swoop, I pull the scrap of nothing off of me and toss it away.

"You can appreciate it on the grass," I tell him before pulling Peeta on top of me.

* * *

I look out my front window, waiting for a sign of life at the house across.

Katniss and Peeta have been gone for hours, leaving Jack to me and Johanna's care. My godson didn't mind. He is unbelievably mellow for a toddler and I like to think it's because of me. Katniss is fiery and Peeta has his moments; it is me that has seemed to calm down.

Perhaps age does that to people.

Closing the curtain, I head upstairs and toward the lit room at the end of the hall.

"Johanna—"

I stop at the scene in front of me; Johanna is sitting in the chair by her window with Jack asleep in her arms. She is singing softly to him, her mouth against his forehead and a slight smile on her lips.

Resting against the doorway, I wait for her to finish the song before clearing my throat to catch her attention.

"I didn't know you were a singer," I tell her softly.

"One of my many talents," Johanna replies. "It was a song my mother used to sing to me. You know, I can barely remember her. Each year, I forget a little bit more, but that song sticks. Why do you think it does?"

When she meets my eyes, I can see her own are glassy.

Stepping forward, I kneel before the two and press my lips to Jack's forehead. When I look up, I see Johanna staring at me, an expression akin to affection in her dark eyes.

"I'm not too sure. Maybe one day, you'll be singing it to your kid."

Johanna snorts. "Yeah, right. So, what happened to the lovebirds?"

"They've disappeared and it looks like it might be awhile," I inform her. "I can take Jack if you want—"

"I just want to hold him a little longer," Johanna tells me, her eyes back on my godson. "Haymitch, will you stay with us?"

It's at the tip of my tongue to tell her that she looks good like that, a child in her arms and a content smile on her rose mouth.

Instead, I clear my once-again dry throat before sitting across from her on corner of her bed.

"Sure, I'll stay."

Three months later, as Katniss is just getting over her morning sickness and Johanna is just beginning her own bout, we decide to stay in this room—together.

 **FIN.**

The lyrics at the beginning are from the song that this story is named after by Laura Gibson.

This isn't at all the way I thought it would turn out—and it's not my favorite because I feel like I could do many more detailed chapters of this particular Post-Hunger Games Everlark. So I hope you enjoyed this snippet that takes place in a week in the life of Everlark.

I do like a more insecure Katniss. Also, I find post-HG Peeta to be very much a DILF.

You know I just had to throw Hayhanna in because they're my other ship.

Hope you enjoy…and as always, prompts are totally welcome.

Until then, JLaLa


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